Tragic
by Loonymoon
Summary: Is Severus Snape a coward? SsxLexJp and RlSb mention. Book 6 spoilers.
1. Chapter 1: Evening Primrose

TRAGIC

Sum: Does nothing matter, only if you die? Is to survive your only goal? SS/LE/JP and bits of RL/SB. R&R

Rating: PG-13 to R (lots of swearing)

Disclaimer: Severus Snape is not mine. But I still love him.

Author's Note: If you don't like SS. Don't read this. If you like SS. Don't read.

If you are just gosh darn confused, like I am, I think you will enjoy.

Chapter One: Evening Primrose 

"Coward!"

a sharp, angry word echoed to the bottom of his heart.

His voice…

…whomever it was… was harsh and vicious

angry

righteous.

"Kill me like you killed him, you coward!" he's louder now.

Why? I don't deserve this. I'm not a coward. James Potter is a coward.

"Coward!"

No, I'm _not_…

James' Messy hair almond-shaped Green eyes

The shadowy figure was coming closer

"Coward!" A mad gleam in his eyes. A crooked, evil smile.

…A ruby-encrusted blade that fell on his body with a _thwak!_

"NO!"

Sixteen-year-old Severus Snape screamed himself awake. Droplets of sweat tangled in his black hair. The hangings whispered with the wind as the moonlight shone down upon his grayish face. His breath came heavy as his leaned forward into his hand, trying to make sense of the nightmares that were plaguing him. A coward? Why was he a coward? Perhaps he wasn't very brave, but Severus had never done anything to be called a coward. He minded his own business. A lonely breeze cooled his hot face. The masculine voice sang with so much honor and truth (the hint of desperation fizzing out from his memory) that his denials could not prevent the steady flow of shame. Something in that voice stabbed at him; an unconscious guilt that plagued old memories. _His father circling him dangerously, he backed into a corner, crying. A crazed grin emitted rancid whiskey breath as he grabbed little Severus' arm. "You're nothing but an ungrateful little bastard!" He was shaking him madly now, a bruise forming under his calloused fingers. "Stop sniveling. Get up and fight you little coward!"_

He shivered violently, trying to shake down that stupid memory. His father, Tobias Snape was and fool who wasted his life away with drinking. _What he said doesn't matter,_ Severus assured himself. But it didn't help the sliding feeling of something slimy in his stomach. That feeling began to grow, the feeling that even though his father was a fool and James Potter was an idiot, Severus had never really fought them back. _Perhaps I am a coward_, he thought as his stomach gave a lurch.

His mouth ran oddly dry. Why did Potter look so different? Why was he dreaming about Potter _at_ _all_? He got enough of his mocking during the day, now he couldn't escape from the ignorant jock's visage even in his dreams. The cool wind from the open window froze the salty sweat on his brow. He fisted his temple, staring into his quilt. And yet… it wasn't his face… not exactly. This dream-Potter's nose was smaller, his chin more feminine and rounder, and those eyes… those eyes had to be Lily's! Was his subconscious trying to make James Potter look more beautiful?

It wouldn't have been the first time. When his silent wishes bubbled up into his dreams he often found a handsomer James Potter who _liked_ him. His usual dream-Potter flooded him with complements, carried his books, was his best friend... But his eyes always stayed the same, those deep brown eyes, filled with admiration. Lily's eyes had appeared in this dream. Why?

He blushed. He admitted internally that he had had a growing crush on that girl for quite some time. How could he resist when her hair fell so elegantly onto her notes in Potions, when their hands brushed as certain intervals as he stirred the caldron? She was just so gorgeous, pretty, well liked, funny, smart and _nice_. She was even nice to _him,_ while others scoffed at him. Although she was so far above him, he couldn't resist…

… even when she smiled that winning smile and asked him, "Can I see you're notes, Snape?" and he gave it to her…

…even when she stole the ideas he wrote in his potions book day after day…

…even when she got the credit and fame for being a "potions prodigy" from Slughorn and he didn't even get noticed…

…even when she let him touch her knee under the potions table and then she would run to Potter the after class…

Even then… he couldn't resist the hope that someday, somehow, Lily Evans could love him. He thought about using a love potion but what he wanted was deeper than that. He wanted true devotion, so that given the choice she would choose him. But all that seemed so impossible now that it ached to think about it.

James Potter, the bane of his existence, and Lily Evans, his dream-girl, seemed to have been morphed together in his dreams. His breath hitched fearfully. Could he be developing a crush on Potter too? No. That's not possible. In the dream Potter had called him a coward. Why would he do that if he liked him?

A ghost of a sunrise peeked through the fog. Pinks and grays outlined the horizon, while pinpricks of stars dotted the sky. Severus stared into the morning, poised like a cat against the windowsill. He listened to his own breathing and pondered what other wonders the day would bring.

Be kind and review.


	2. Chapter 2: Venus Flytrap

By the first class that morning the dream had been forgotten. He busied himself in charm notes (he was never good at charms, bunch of foolish wand-waving if you asked him) eyeing the elegant Lily Evans at regular intervals. She looked oddly strained today- her hair, which was normally gorgeous and tended to, had hastily been made into a messy bun. Her makeup was askew in places, and her clothes more rumpled. He caught her sometimes, staring into space instead of taking her usual, tedious notes.

After class, they were usually always the last ones out of the classroom. Lily always took a long time putting her books away and Severus usually waited for her. They made a routine at the beginning of the year where he would walk her to her next class. He tried to hide his actual concern for her in a loud greeting. "All right, Evans?" He asked.

She turned to him, her lipstick was smeared on her bottom lip as she smiled. "No need to be so formal, Severus."

_Severus_… she said it so smoothly. It was warm and welcoming, like soft sunshine on a summer's afternoon. He rarely heard anyone call him by his first name and it made him feel like a cat being petted for the first time. He couldn't resist stretching his lips and smiling softly.

She remained deep in thought as the walked out of the classroom, "I had a dream about you last night," she confessed finally.

"You did?"

"It was more like a nightmare," she didn't look at him.

The blood ran from his face. He felt his stomach drop. "Oh," he turned to walk in the other direction.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," she said, grabbing his sleeve, green eyes full of concern, "It was just… you were all bloodied up and… and wounded and everything. It was so scary. It had something to do with the Whomping Willow."

"Perhaps you're subconscious wants to kill me for some strange reason…" he mused.

"No," the arm that had been clutching at his sleeve suddenly wrapped around him, " I was really scared."

He felt the blood run back into his face as she put her other arm around him, squeezing his cold body softly. He patted her back awkwardly. He rarely received hugs even as a child and hardly knew what to do. "I'd better not let myself get whomped then, hadn't I?" she giggled in relief. When they pulled out of the embrace he couldn't help but admit, "I had a dream about you too… well sort of… you and that _prick_ Potter…"

"Potter's not a prick. He's just… a terribly misguided individual," she supposed.

"A misguided individual! The man tries to hex me every time he sees me!" he snapped.

She frowned, "I guess he is kind of a prick _to you_…"

"I wish you would exercise some restraint on him."

"What do you mean?"

"Most of the stupid things he does are done just to impress you."

To Snape's surprise, and displeasure, she looked oddly pleased by this news. She smirked in the same way she would if she got the best grade in the class. He felt an explosion of jealously that hid behind his stoic face. "You think so, do you? Remus thinks so too."

"Well, I'm not Remus. I didn't mean it like a complement the way he did," and to explain further, he added, "I'm not funny like he is."

"What do you mean 'funny'?" she raised an eyebrow.

He sneered; he didn't want to talk about Remus Lupin. Surely he wasn't as hate-able as those ignorant jocks Potter and Black, but something about him was always a bit… off. Why would someone just sit around pretend to read when his friends were beating on an innocent bystander?

He remembered that day by the lake, and how he just sat there. Remus was supposed to be a prefect, a protector other students but he conveniently stuck his nose in a book while his idiot jock friends hung him upside-down in the air. The bastard just sat. He had no dignity at all.

He remembered in frustration calling Lily a 'mudblood' and apologizing the next day explaining that he had been taught at a young age that women, and muggles, were weak and to receive help from them was a sign of weakness. She refused to talk to him for a few days, until an argument broke out the following week: "_Not all muggles are evil and weak, Snape," _Lily had assured himHe had given her a skeptical look. "_You think we're all bad people when the only muggle you know of is your father…Do you really think I'm a weak person?"_ No, he didn't, he realized some days later. Lily was, in many ways, far stronger than he was… and braver too. _Not a coward,_ he thought reflexively.

Now she was looking to him with expectation. Her face becoming more contorted with frustration as time went on. Severus gave the only explanation he could think of. He had read into his motions, and learned simply that Remus Lupin was not like other people. "Not funny-_haha_… funny-queer."

Her gorgeous green eyes widened so that he could see the dark rim around her irises. "Who told you Remus was gay?" she had forbidding tone in her voice, like she had caught him eating cookies before dinner.

"No one. I guessed."

"Oh my… you're very intuitive aren't you…"

Apparently she knew too, "So that means he _is _gay, then?" he drawled, smirking.

"Oh my God, Severus, don't tell anyone, I promised to keep it a secret!" She was pleading now, begging. He didn't like to see her begging… he would give her anything she asked.

"Well, alright. I was going to keep it to myself anyways," he promised.

"Thank you," she said, hugging his arm as they strolled around the perimeter of the courtyard. He was beginning to feel very gentlemanly, as he promenaded with Lily Evans holding his arm in the late morning sunlight. "Tell me more about your dream," she asked. How could he refuse a gaze like that?

"Well," he stuttered, "I-It was… kind of weird. Potter had you're eyes… and you're nose and… he had this big silver sword… he was fighting… someone…"

"He was fighting evil," Lily stated as if she knew.

"It was weird…"

"James is weird…"

"Yes… he called me a coward."

"Do you think that he and I would make a good couple?" She asked, playing with a lock of her rose-red hair.

His body reacted as if he had been whipped. He stopped in his tracts and took her by the shoulders, "Evans, stop toying around! I hate James Potter and I hate that you like him and hate that you talk to me like I'm another queer friend! And I hate that you just ignore my feelings…" but once he had gotten all that out he immediately regretted it. Instead of being taken aback, Lily Evans was smiling at him, coyly.

"And what _are_ your feelings, Severus?"

He blushed crimson, "I… I already told you. I don't want to hear you're boy-crazy talk about James Potter… because…"

"…because it makes you jealous?" her grin was widening now.

She had him. She always had him. But now she knew she had him.

Snape could do nothing but blush and stammer, even as she flipped her hair out of her bun and strolled away. She knew his eyes were following her legs' motion and yet she kept walking in that sexy way.

"See you tomorrow, Severus…"


	3. Chapter 3: Voodoo Lily

Chapter Three: Voodoo Lily

Within a couple days of the mind-reading incident, Severus Snape was beginning to suspect that Lily Evans wasn't nearly as innocent as she pretended to be. On the surface she was the prime example of the well-rounded Hogwarts girl. She had astounding grades, sparkling beauty, she was responsible, she stuck her neck out for what was right- her teachers, family, and peers all loved her and she was quite frankly the fish that all of the boys in Hogwarts wanted to catch…

But something about her story just did not stick with Severus. How was it possible to be the favorite among her teachers and not spark jealousy among other students? How could she capture ever boys attention and be respected by her parents? These things were possible but she did it so effortlessly. Slowly he began to work out that it had to be a façade. Lily Evans couldn't possibly be perfect.

He began to realize this when one day in Transfiguration she blew a kiss across to room to one James Potter. Her lipstick smeared ever-so-slightly on her two fingers as she shyly winked to him. Severus saw his blushing reaction as he stared in utter disbelief. A few seconds too late, James caught the kiss in mid-air and held it dramatically to his heart, earning a snort from Sirius. Perfectly natural situation… except she was simultaneously squeezing his left knee underneath the desk. He raised his eyebrows as high as possible.

She didn't look at him, but those nails (chipped pink nail polish- digging into his thigh) were definitely hers. She let go only to take occasional notes.

Severus' gut clenched furiously, _What the hell? What is she playing at?_ Did she really think that he would just sit and let her blow kisses to her _boyfriend_ while touching _him_? He made to push off her offending hand… but when he grabbed her hand… she grabbed back and held onto it. Their sweaty palms touched in the most exotic way, like a bit of their souls were touching through warm flesh. He blushed, reflecting that he had never felt anyone this intimately. Black eyes met green ones for the briefest of moments…

"Mr. Snape!" McGonagall screeched in that horrible way that only the head of Gryffindor could. Under the table they let go instantly. "I suggest you stop playing footsy and pay attention! Are those three lines the only ones you've written during the entire class?"

He distantly felt his ears, face and neck turn bright pink instantly. He caught a glimpse of Sirius mouthing the words "footsy?" a few feet away. He stood up quickly, "I'm sorry, Ma'am."

"Ten points from Slytherin!" She hissed, "I would have expected better from you, Snape."

_She expects better from me?_ He thought at first before glancing at the furious face that was James Potter. Hippogriffs didn't give stares this cold.

Try as he might, he couldn't catch Lily's green eyes for the rest of the class

His back hit the concrete wall with a distinct _smack_. The raw, bruising skin remained poised against the stones. At least one side of his body was protected there. "How are you doing, Snivellus?" muttered Sirius, his wand jabbing into the soft skin of Severus' throat. He had that maniacal look in his eyes now, and Snape knew from experience that that look meant pain. His eyes and jaw resembled a dog that could smell fresh, raw, bleeding meat…

Dead meat. He was dead meat.

"Define 'footsy' for us, Snivellus," Sirius growled, an entertained satisfaction in his voice.

"I don't…" he began to whisper.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO EVANS, SLIME?" James bellowed in his left ear.

Snape was shivering now. How could he battle with this? _Coward, coward, coward…_ "You look like you're scare of _me_, scared little sniveling Snivellus," said Sirius in a mock-soothing voice. "But really, I'm doing you a favor. You see, James here, Potter to you, slime ball, would have killed you on sight." Snape didn't doubt it, James looked blood-thirsty… "But that would have landed him a one-way trip to Azkaban and I would be very sad here all by myself. So we agreed, James wouldn't kill you, instead I would just torture you."

He made to push Sirius off. But instantly a _thwack_ met the side of his face. His neck whipped to the side, his nose feeling lopsided. Coppery tasting liquid leaked into his mouth. His robes were now covered in his own blood.

A twang of relief echoed inside of him. James hadn't had the patience to use a spell- he simply punched him in the nose.

"Loo-k, id's knodt what dou dink ih is," he pleaded with difficulty.

"NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS?" James exploded. "I THINK YOU WERE TOUCHING MY GIRLFRIEND YOU FUCKING _WORM_!" James socked him in the middle, and Snape felt his organs explode like water balloons. His eyes bugged; the wind was knocked out of him. He hugged himself and fell to the floor.

"I diddnn…" he stammered, the blood trickling down his face.

Long, slender legs blurred his vision. "What's going on here," said Lily's casual voice. Severus squeezed his eyes shut, like a two-year-old who believed that shutting his eyes would erase the outside world. He wished it would now. A new kind of fear constricted his chest- he didn't want Lily to see him like this, all bleeding and cowering and pathetic. He wanted for her to see him strong… to be half as strong as she is…

With a lurch he stood up, the throbbing in his side subsiding. A burst of injustice was rebutted with burst of insight, "Fuck dou, Podder. Evans idnt your girlfend, she doddn't belong to dou. Che can choose who che wandts."

Lily raised a slender, red eyebrow at him. He attempted to wipe the blood off of his face.

James' mouth gaped open. "I know that," James said. He had a weakness in his voice as he pleaded to Evans, "You know I know that, don't you?"

They stared at each other a long time. "I know," Lily said finally. Fire licked Severus' insides. "Potter, he's right, though. You forget sometimes." She walked that sexy walk over to where Severus was leaning against the wall. She looked him right in the eyes, a whole different person dwelled behind them, "But even so… he touched my leg…"

A series of explosions followed. Sirius' arm wrapped around his neck while James screeched, "HE TOUCHED YOUR FUCKING LEG?" A wand touched his sensitive neck once more. But the most earthshaking was the explosion in his own gut. She _lied_. She fucking _lied_. Why would she lie? Does she _like_ seeing him slapped around? James looked joyously psycho, "Ooooh… Snivellus…" he poked his chin with the end of his wand. "What curse to use?"

_Why isn't she stopping him?_ He tried to look into those mindless green orbs… to get a reason why she would let him bleed when she was fond of him. But a lead weight dropped in his stomach. Was she fond of him? He loved her, yes. But she had never told him that she loved him, she never even said if she _liked_ him. _My God_, he thought, _was she baiting me?_ _Why?_

"Let me do it," she said in a voice that wasn't her own. "I've got a good one." She pointed her wand to the tip of his long, greasy nose.

He closed his eyes again, willing himself not to cry (not to live up to his nickname-Snivellus…). _Why is she doing this? _he prayed desperately, _Why?_ He willed back the moisture forming at the corners of his eyes. She muttered a spell that he couldn't hear. He wished it were Avada Kedavra. The ringing in his ears blocked all thought.

Until, the ringing subsided. Warm water seemed to be caressing the top of his greasy head, then behind his ears, then to the tip of his dead ends. The soaked-head feeling evaporated and left him wondering what the hell happened. "Oh, Evans!" erupted Sirius. "That was _fucking brilliant_!" James' derisive laugh echoed from farther away. Heavy footsteps retreated… _they're leaving!_ But Severus didn't dare open his eyes until the three pairs of footsteps couldn't be heard anymore.

He slid down the wall, his body and mind dull with pain. A strand of hair fell into his eyes. He grabbed it, examining it with widened eyes. "Bloody hell…"

She had turned his hair pink.


	4. Chapter 4: Bladderworts

Chapter Four: Bladderworts 

When he got back to the Slytherin common room, Severus wasn't greeted with furious hollers for revenge or even polite indifference. Snickers followed him as he ran to his dormitory room. He locked himself in the bathroom until his roommate told him to get the hell out because he had to pee. Lucius came to his rescue, as he often did when Snape was found like this- pathetic and humiliated. He was a few years older, and was polite enough to hold back his smirk.

"It's not as bad as you think it is, Snape. Or at least it won't be after a few thorough scrubbings," Lucius said in his usual drawl. He threw him a towel uncaringly. "Use the Prefects Bathroom. The password is 'toilet seat'. And honestly it's really not that bad. My cousin hit me with one of those charms a couple years ago. It only took some elbow grease and large quantities of shampoo and it went away. Worst comes to worst it'll go away with time."

"Like muggle hair dyes?" asked Severus in a small voice.

"What?" he hissed, wincing at the word 'muggle'.

"Never mind," said Snape, remembering quickly that half-bloods didn't hold well with pure-bloods like Lucius. Sometimes he thought that that was why he wasn't included in his circle of friends. Not that he was interested anyway. Lucius was the sort of acquaintance should be taken in small doses. He was fine now, but if he had to listen to that annoying drawl all day long like those idiots Crabbe and Goyle…

"You'll be fine," Lucius finished. "Who gave it to you anyway? Was it that muggle-loving idiot, Potter?"

"No," said Snape, his voice hollow, "It was Evans."

"Evans?" Lucius exclaimed. "That mudblood princess _whore?_"

He couldn't bring himself to answer.

He sniffed, "I can't believe you let yourself get hit by a girl… much less a _mudblood girl!_"

"Potter was pinning me down."

"But _still_… that girl… you're not falling for her are you?"

"I've gotta go," Severus said, dodging his retort. He ran out of the room, down the hall and almost all the way to the baths.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When he finally got to the bathrooms he was quite out of breath. He clutched his side, grabbing the sink to steady himself. Each breath burned his insides as leaned over the sink. _You not falling for her are you?_ He scowled, of course he wasn't! Not after that mess… he caught himself in the mirror, and saw for the first time how absolutely ridiculous he looked.

It actually made him smirk. A twitch of his lower left mouth revealed a hint of his almost dead sense of humor. Black eyebrows and eyelashes against a full head of greasy pink hair; it was pretty ridiculous. He thought of what James Potter's head would look if he had a head of pink hair. If, by some spout of luck, their roles were reversed and Potter was the one with the pink hair (which he would have deserved) and Severus was the one with Lily. Severus smiled maliciously at the thought of _Potter_ being laughed at for once. But a cold feeling wiggled in his stomach and with a jolt Severus realized that he would have laughed along with them. James Potter had _friends_, friends who would laugh with him, make him appear cool… even when he looked ridiculous. Severus had no one to laugh with him, so others only laughed _at _him. Even with a bald head, James could pretend it doesn't matter and laugh… and he would still be liked, no, _loved_ by all of his friends.

But, Severus was alone. He had no one to laugh with him, no one to talk with him, no one to hold him when he cried…

_Get over it. Grow up._ He wiped his two warm tears on the back of his hand, and began to strip. But a hint of blue caught his eyes when he removed his white shirt. On the middle of his stomach, silver-blue letters that quivered when touched wrote:

_I love you. I'm sorry._

It was Lily's handwriting.

He fell to the floor, blindsided by a burst of love, admiration, anger, hate, ferocity, disappointment, confusion... She was _sorry?_ Why would she even do that in the first place if she loved him? Why was she tormenting him? _You not falling for her are you?_ Severus didn't know why he couldn't stay angry with her. When it came down to a decision between him and her façade, she chose the façade. She treated him like some dirty thing in the back of her closet that should hide away, a skeleton that should never be mentioned. Otherwise it would make her _perfect_ mask unclean. _How could she say she loves me? She treats me like slime! How can I believe a word she says? She lives in a lie!_ But he couldn't deny that he wanted to believe her. He wanted that lie… the memory of her hand against his warmed his entire body. Against all logic he wanted more than anything to be loved.

Warm, enveloping water soothed his recent bruises. The jet of bubbles massaged his knotted back where the stress of it all left his nerves raw. Black beady eyes stared at the ceiling. He began to ponder things that he didn't want to ponder. Perhaps Lily had been trying to protect him. Perhaps she thought James would go on beating him if she didn't do anything. He had to admit that pink hair wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to him. He tried to rub away his consciousness as he massaged his scalp.

He was only rinsing his second batch of shampoo when he heard boyish laughter. A pair of footsteps accompanied familiar voices.

"Sirius… _Sirius_!" he whispers were punctured by giggles. "Slow down, you great berk!"

"I would but…mmph!" said Sirius Black's high voice. There was a smacking sound, like a wet sponge hitting the floor. Harder laughter this time, "We only have a few minutes Moony!" The smacking sounds became quieter… almost like the sound that people made when they were kissing… but that couldn't be possible... Heavy breathing, "Oh," a puppy-like whimper, "Love you, Remus."

Snape rinsed his hair and bobbed out of the water quickly. He sputtered, wiping his eyes vigorously. When he finally placed his elbows on the rim of the bath he caught the astonished stares of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Black's eyes were the size of sickles but they had lost none of the maniacal danger they had when he beat him. Remus' lips were red and swollen. But unlike Black's defiant posture he was crouched in fear. "S-s-severus?" he began.

"So…" he felt himself smirk. "This is where you queers go for some fun."

"You would fucking know, Snivellus!" Black cursed hysterically.

"Actually," his grin grew wider. "I wouldn't. And I apologized for intruding on gay stomping ground. But I might suggest next time before displaying your blatant sexuality, you might want to check for your everyday chap who might actually want to _take a bath_."

"Blatant, eh?' Sirius snorted. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately. _You're_ the one who looks like a fairy."

"Perhaps, yes. But you're the one who _is_ a fairy, Black, not me. Have _you_ looked in the mirror lately?" He tried to keep his voice steady and cool, "I find it _hysterical_ that you accuse me of being homosexual again and again, _even_ after I find you kissing your boyfriend," he shot a disgusted glance at Lupin. "You are the worst sort of hypocrite, Black. You accuse me of what you are afraid of in yourself!"

Black made a choking noise in the back of his throat. Remus spoke for him, "Severus! Please don't tell anyone, I beg of you! You don't know what it's like," he was growing close to tears. "If anyone finds out… if anyone learns about us… then… we could get expelled! Our friends… we… no one will treat us the same way!"

"You're disgusting. You're both disgusting," his nose curled. "Give me a reason. Give me _one_ reason why I shouldn't tell on you both!" he spat.

Black glared at him. Remus just stared. "Because… you're a good person," the prefect whispered.

"Shut up!" he lost his cool demeanor completely. He felt the droplets on his back grow hot with his anger. _Coward,_ his elbows quivered with frustration and slipped off of the marble. The words scratched through his throat, "You don't know me!"

Remus blanched, like a dog hit by a newspaper, "I'm sorry!"

Black exploded, "DON'T YOU FUCKING YELL AT HIM, SNAPE!"

"Keep your bitch on a leash!"

"HE IS NOT A BITCH!"

He smiled maliciously, "I was talking about, _you_, Black."

"_Severus_, please!" One tear glided down Remus' heated cheeks. "Please, don't tell! I can't give any reason but the fact that you just… _can't_." He tried to tell himself that these were only crocodile tears, and that if their roles were reversed they would have told on him in a second. But in the back of his gut he felt a twang of pity, despite his efforts to hide it. He knew what it was like to be a freak.

And now Remus looked like a whipped puppy and he couldn't find it in himself to hate him. "I…" his voice mixed in with the sound of Remus soft sobs. Sirius had none of the usual hate in his eyes now. They were staring at the marble floor.

He frowned and sniffed in frustration. "Get out."

Remus made a whipped noise. Sirius growled, "You bastard! You'd really tell…"

"Call me a prick," Severus glared at him, "but I'm a bit grossed out by the notion of changing in front of two queers. Go hide in a stall or something."

"Oh," Sirius said goofily, taking a wet-faced Remus by the arm into an empty stall. They waited until Severus padded out of the bath. He toweled himself quickly, noticing that the blue handwriting had smeared. He waited until he had his belt firmly fastened before he called, "Alright."

They tentatively peeked around the corner. He snorted. He found it odd that after all these years of bullying they would be scared of him. "You can come out now," he quickly grew impatient. "Stop fucking around and get out here."

They whisked out. Remus started to grovel again, it was starting to annoy him a little, "S-Severus?"

"You do realize of course," he said, circling his shirt onto his naked shoulders, "that the truth will eventually come out, even if I hold my tongue. Someone else is going to find out. What's spoken in whispers will one day be hollered from mountaintops-"

"So you're not going to-?"

"No," he sniffed at his robes, "I don't think I have a good enough reason to. Not many people would believe me anyway. But listen," he waved a menacing finger at Lupin. "If the truth does come out, in two months, a year, whenever, I don't want your boyfriend running to me. I don't want to be blamed for something that's bound to happen anyway."

"How are we supposed to know it wasn't you?" Black spat. "How can we trust you?"

Severus grinned back to them, as he swirled his cloak over his shoulder, "Blind faith, I guess."

As he stalked out of the room, leaving a pair of shocked queers behind him, he couldn't help but think that the only reason he wasn't telling on them was because Lily had asked him not to…


	5. Chapter 5: Skunk Cabbage

A/N: I'd like to take the time out to say that people who review are cool people. That is all. 

Chapter Five: Skunk Cabbage

Severus stared though his window. In the distance he could see red and green dots falling and raising into the sky like a swarm of flies. He could just barely hear the announcements being said above a whispering crowd. Snape stared disinterestedly through his window towards the quiddich game of his school career. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. His house had to stop the Gryffindors or else they'd win the house cup. He looked back down to his lap. A pile of transfiguration and charms homework lay ready for his pen. And yes, even though it was Friday, he wanted to get it done now, thank you very much. In the pit of his stomach he knew that this was only an excuse to not go outside in the massive swarm of people.

Snape never liked quiddich. He frowned into his started essay. An embarrassing memory bubbled up into his consciousness. He bit his lip to stop the moan of sudden remembrance. _He was only five or so, trying to ride a broom for the first time. The calm floating sensation twitched under his fingertips and suddenly it was bucking out of control, hitting him in the shins and groin. He gripped the handle only to have the broom jump more. A girl was laughing at him. He held back tears…_

Snape hit himself on the forehead with his charms book. _Why are you so pathetic?_ He asked himself. Someone had hexed his broom into doing that to him, and although he never knew for sure who it was, he had some idea who it might have been... someone whose name began with "J" and ended with "ames".

The rumble of the crowd a few miles away woke him from his day-mare. He heard, in a sound no more than a whisper, the scream of the announcer, "Gryffindor Scores!" His stomach dropped.

He couldn't go out there. All those people weren't worth his trouble. Plus, his hair hadn't returned to its normal jet-black state yet; it was now a deeper, richer shade of magenta. And if he showed up with his Slytherin tie and his hair dyed a Gryffindor color, there would be hell to pay. He didn't feel like getting mauled. Again.

He busied himself with his work, not letting himself glance out the window or try to hear the score. Not letting himself sense that Potter was one of those red dots in the sky.

Not letting himself wonder if Lily was there.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Regardless, hours later when his essays and reading was done, he couldn't help but hear the earth-quaking cheer of the crowd. "SLYTHERIN WINS!" For the first time in two hours, Severus raised his head to see the green swarm heading back to the castle. Chants of "Sly-the-rin! Sly-the-rin!" echoed across the vast grounds. Girls were jumping up and down frantically. He could just barely see Lucius being hoisted above the crowd. He was the Slytherin seeker and probably made the winning shot.

Snape had to be honest with himself: he wasn't expecting his house to win. He had seen the prick, Potter, practicing obsessively through his window day and night. The fact they won didn't cause him any sort of elation. Just a calm sort of, "Oh, that's nice," in the back of his head. He didn't really care either way… in fact a minute part of his soul felt sorry for Potter. But he rarely listened to that minute part anyway.

Calmly, serenely, wearily, placidly, he collected his books to return to the library, like an old man. A savage thought suddenly made him smile. If James had won, the Gryffindor house would have had a party. And if they had a party, Lily probably would have done something as congratulations … a _sexual_ something (Severus imagined James and Lily snogging in one corner of the common room). James lost. Meaning no sexual something. Snape giggled.

Lost in his sexual, giggly thoughts he made his way up to the library, passing a few giddy Slytherins on the way. He returned his books, taking his time to look at a few new potions manuals. After spending a while looking at the newfound use of yew sprouts (astonishingly they could be used as a substitute for kelpie weeds) he lazily made his way back from whence he came, glancing at tapestries and statues as he passed. Ulric the oddball, Hambleton Quince, and a number of other wizards stood proudly in their solid, marble state.

What he saw next was such a shock that he almost missed it. Amid the marble stood a pile of shifting red fabric. A face, so pasty that it seemed to be made of wax, blinked to life. Glasses hung on the white nose. A bottle of firewhiskey was clutched in its leather-covered hand.

The bane of his existence, James Potter, was in the middle of the hallway, utterly alone and utterly pissed.

The head rolled in his shoulders. For a moment, Potter didn't ever seemed to see him, until his eyes grew wide and he erupted, "Everybody! Everybody, everybody! Lookit!" He yelled, waving his arms for a crowd that wasn't there. "Snnnape's here te ruuuin our party!" He took a long swig from the bottle of firewhiskey, spilling some on his muscular chest. "He'ssss a party-pooper. He poops parties."

Snape stared incredulously. James was drunk as a skunk and no one was around. He wondered if he was a violent drunk like his father.

"Doun't ou raise yer eyebrow at me, Mister soberpants!" He waggled his index finger at the wall.

He bit back a smile. There comes a time when a person is so drunk that they can no longer function, let alone hit anyone. His father sometimes got like this. Severus only had to wait a little while before Tobias Snape could no longer lunge toward him and hit him. It took a while, but once it happened his father would sit and talk to himself for hours.

Yet, Potter didn't even seem like the violent type of drunk, anyway. There was a soft rosy color in his pale dimples and a smug smile across his face. His euphoric expression didn't match his father's mad, angry eyes. Potter merely seemed in ignorant bliss, as he hobbled towards him.

"Snnnnaaape!" He proclaimed, grabbing onto Severus' Slytherin robes for support. "GUESS WHAT!"

He raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"YOU'RE A GIT!" James admitted this to the world, a triumphant grin plastered across his victorious face. He then did what seemed to be some sort of victory dance mixed with a strange form a tribal dance Severus once saw in an African program. "Snape iiiissss a greasy git! A greasy git! A greasy git!"

The smile didn't fade from Severus face, although his eyes narrowed. Oh, the opportunities. What to do? For Severus, the question was- what curse to use? He had been reading up on a charm that not only turned one's hair, but one's entire body, baby blue…

"Sevoourousses mother smells like shit! He's a greasy git! A greasy git."

Or there had been a curse that resembled the act of muggle castration…

"He makes love like a mole, takes exams like a troll, he smells like shit, the greasy git!" He finished his drunken sonata with an off-centered bow.

Or he could always use Avada Kedarva…

"You likes ma song, Snnnnnape?"

_Oh, I'll show you how much I like your song_, Severus thought maniacally, pulling his wand from his robes. Revenge was sweet. Now he could take revenge on James for making him look like a fool in front of Lily. A truly evil smile crossed his lips. He wondered if Lily would appreciate Potter's head on a silver platter. Maybe not…

"Hey, maaaaaaan," James said, leaning against the stone wall for support. "Guess what?"

"I know. I'm a greasy git," Severus mumbled, racking his brains to remember the castration spell. He held his aim on Potter, wand poised and ready.

James ignored him, staring into his empty firewhiskey bottle. "Nope. I just ate a bunch of pills that the doctor gave me for my depression to go 'way…" he sighed into the bottle, "…mighta had too much."

Snape's gut clenched, "What?"

"And then I had a lot of whiskey. But… but," he belched loudly. "I checked the back of thbottle… and itsays itsays 'do not use with alcohol'."

Snape blinked. "Oh shit," the concerned words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Yeah," James smiled strangely, a faraway unhappiness behind his euphoric eyes.

"Y…Potter… you need… you need to go to the hospital wing!" Snape stammered.

Potter let his body slide down to the floor, the back of his scarlet uniform catching on the rough stone. "I don't really wanna. Don't really care. Lily doesn't love me. Life is stupid right now," James said. Even in his euphoric state, he noticed the look of panic on Snape's face. "Oh…itssssoookay… this isn't a real suicidal thingy." He yawned. "This is more like a 'come save me' thingy. Nope. Ima gonna wait around here until someone who loves me comes to save me. Maybe it'll be Sirius. I hope its Lils."

Snape could do nothing but gape. "Don't be an idiot. No one knows that you're here! Your friends can't save you if they don't even know you're in danger. _Think_ about it."

James smiled that wide unhappy smile again. He spread both arms out, like an eagle, like he was nailed to a cross onto the marble wall, and uttered, "Fate."

"Are you implying that you're going to rely on fate to save you?"

He paused. "You talk too much," James belched. "Go 'way."

Snape stared, in total confusion. The wand that had been about to curse Potter's nether regions was lifeless at his side. He couldn't curse him. He would feel too guilty trying to hurt someone who was about to commit suicide… but it wasn't his problem. Potter could eat his own liver with a rusty spoon for all he cared. Perhaps he should just "go 'way" as the bully had said. For all the pain he caused him, he would deserve it. _Just walk away_, a little voice inside his head whispered. _Walk away, it's not your problem. He would do the same if it were you…_

He began to turn around. Until a deeper voice, a harsher voice, told him that it was wrong. His feet shuffled awkwardly, until he stood firmly in front of the drunken boy. "Potter. Get up. Go to the hospital wing. We don't need a teen suicide."

"I can't get up," James whispered. "Carry me?"

He flicked his magenta hair out of his eyes. "Yes you can. You're just being spoiled." He tapped his toe impatiently. "Get up and fight me you prick!" "…Maybe later," said Potter.

_Just walk away, you tried, there's nothing you can do._ Perhaps he should just leave him. "Why isn't Lily saving me?" He heard James mutter into his knees. A lifelessness came over Potter, the rosy color in his cheeks fading again. Severus watched as his eyes became droopy and tired. His breath caught in his throat.

"POTTER! You mustn't go to sleep. You could fall into a coma. You could die and never wake up!"

"I'm ok…" he growled.

"No, you're not!'

But despite his best efforts, James could not pick himself up. He appeared as a puppet with tangled strings, the life in his legs fading fast. Finally he rolled onto his knees and pressed his head against the cold stone wall. "I'm dizzy," he whispered, and Snape could tell. He was turning more and more unnaturally pale by the second.

Why did he, of all people, think it was a bad thing that James Potter was about to die?

God.

Damn.

Conscience.

Hoisting him onto his shoulder, Severus chose the stupid path. He chose to follow his conscience, although his mind was telling him that he was an idiot.


	6. Chapter 6: Pink Pansy

………………………………… 

A/N: REVIEW THANKIES

The Sentient Wolf – you are absolutely right about Lucius not being in school with them. To be totally honest, I didn't think anyone would notice and wrote it anyway. I was just using fanon license I guess - _is sheepish_… And to address confusion, this is James', Lily's, and Severus' sixth year. Lily and James aren't really going out right now. Their relationship is kind of funky. James calls Lily his "girlfriend" without her consent because he's a tad obsessive and likes to blow his own horn (if you know what I mean). Thanks for the wonderful review!

Pikaf- Kind regards to you too!

My site- Ok, I'll try! _Types-types-types._

Carol J- Thanks!

Erica- Because you reviewed each chapter, I think you should win a reward or something. - _gives cookies_…

Excessivelyperky- Yeah, she's quite the catch isn't she? Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Dumbledore. We'll get to him later. Thanks for reviewing.

Aya Kaiba- Thanks for reviewing. You get cookies too. I'll get to the threesomeness… I mean… what? Threesome? _Pretends to be astonished._

Spinereader- My grammar is poop and I'm sorry. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Chapter Six: Pink Pansy

Potter was dead weight already. Dead weight that giggled.

He quickly learned two things. One, when James was drunk, he had something reminiscent of an American accent. Two, the man never shut up.

"The ting about ou, Snnnn-ape," James belched out, groggily. "You is sooooooo… unattractive. I on't get it! Why does she like you?"

"Beats me," Severus murmured. Potter's dead weight stretched across his shoulders. Little droplets of sweat formed at his temples. He sucked in the smell of James' sweat (so unlike his own), and alcohol between deep gasps. A part of him was glad that Potter was still conscious; perhaps James was going to be ok after all. But the other part wanted to kill him.

"May… beeee… You is soooooo unattractive that… it makes you attractive," he theorized. "You know how much work I put in? Huh? I work my ass off to be this good-looking." He pointed to himself. Severus couldn't hold back a snort. He raised one eyebrow, realizing that a sober James would never have told him that. "I have to tan and… and… and ex-cert-size… and eat right. I diet. I mouse my ha-yar." He had no idea what James said. _Mouse? What's that?_ "And you come along… YOU!" he exclaimed, "And you steal my woman. And you don't even care about your looks. You don even wash your ha-yar." _Oh,_ Severus realized, _ha-yar must mean hair._ "You cheat. It'ssss not fair."

"You're right, it's not fair," Severus said, half-listening. "Please keep walking, alright?"

"Wat's soooooo _ka-ute_ about _y-ou_?" he asked, lifting his feet properly. "You is uhgly. You don't know how to take care of yourself. Look! Lookit!" With a bit of panic, Severus felt a calloused hand pet the maroon hair from his temple out of his eyes. "See! See all greas… wait…"

He ran his fingers through Severus' red hair again, this time from his scalp all the way to the dead ends. And he did it again. And again. Each time it sent a new shiver down Severus' spine. His whole body warmed. A fuzzy memory rose in his mind, his mother leaning over his sickbed, brushing his hair and whispering to him softly, _It's going to be alright, little Severus… it's all going to be ok_...

"You have _girl's_ hair, Sev-or-ous," James mumbled. Severus felt his rancid breath on his cheek. He blushed the color of his hair.

"Get off me!" he whispered, although he felt his body react to the touch. "Potter! I'm not Lily!"

"Oh," James said, puckering his lips. His voice seemed to shake Potter out of his Lily-filled daydream. "Hmm." James' rough finger touched the tip of his nose. "See! See! I'm right. Plain Uhgly."

"Whatever." He gave a great sigh as Potter slid himself down the wall onto the floor. "Potter! Get up! We have to get to the infirmary!"

"I just nedtuh sit," he said from the carpet. "Jusht foh a minute."

"No!"

Before he knew it, Potter was beginning to belch.

"No… you're not going to… Oh, merlin!" he screeched as Potter vomited yellow chunks onto the wall, the carpet and his black shoes. "Oh, god you are _disgusting!_" A quick Evanasco and the mess was cleared, but the horrid stench remained. "Oh god you stupid, muggle-loving _drunk!_ My shoes are going to smell like your sick for _days!_"

"They'll smell better then they normally do, then," James smirked from the floor, rolling on his side and groaning.

"Fuck you!" he spat. "Get the fuck up, Potter. We need to get to the hospital wing before you puke again."

"SIRIUS! Find me a bird to snog!" James shouted from the floor.

"Shut up, you jerk, Shutup!" he whispered, grabbing James by the arm and lifting him onto his shoulders again. "Sirius isn't here and even if he was," James swiveled where he stood, so Snape grabbed him by the middle and walked with him, "no one would want to kiss you in this state."

"Not even you?"

His husky voice made Severus blush again. His heart hammered in his chest. "What?"

"…I jusht thought you were desperate." He puckered his lips. "How bout it, Snivellus, fancy a kiss?"

"Oh, gods. Get off, puke-mouth!" Snape squashed his face away with a free hand.

"Uhgly," he ran his fingers through the blood red hair once more. About five seconds passed as they paced down the empty hall together before James erupted, "Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey!"

"Is for horses."

"I figured something out. Ohmygawd!"

"I'll get the press."

"No! Listen! You have girly hair!" he pointed at him. "And… ohmygaw. Lily likes you! YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?"

He stared.

"Lily is a LESBIAN!"

His eyes widened. Try as he might, he couldn't hold back the shriek of mirth that burst from his lips. He felt to the floor and rolled. "WHAT?!"

"OH MY GAWD IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE!"

He couldn't help himself. He sniggered so hard that it was beginning to hurt. He held the stitch in his side…

"THAT'S why she won't go out with me!"

"Oh, Merlin," he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Oh, God. Potter, that's really just wishful thinking." The last of his giggles faded away.

"Yeah," James nodded to the floor. "What can I say? Methinks lezzians are sexy…" Severus got up and brushed himself off, James' eyes following him all the while. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I've never sceen you laugh like that before," James explained. "Inffffact… I has never sceen you laugh atall, Snnnnape."

He blushed. He was right. He had never laughed in front of James before. Not that he ever had a reason…

"I hasn't even sceen you smile. You is always a sad, sad thing, Sev-or-ous," Once again, Severus found that if sober, James would have rather dropped dead than admit this. James ran his fingers through the red hair. "I like when you smmmiley. Doit again!" he commanded.

"No," he said firmly, his usual frown reforming on his face.

"Ka-mooooon," begged James, like a two-year old. "Dooooit, you pansy!"

"Doooit!"

"No!"

"Doooooo…it."

"Potter, we're in front of the hospital wing."

Finally they were. _Now_, thought Severus_, how can I get rid of him_?

"No we're not!" he started to throw a tantrum. "Nooooooh, no, noooooh!"

Severus threw his arms down on Madam Pomphrey's desk nearing hysterics, "This student is drunk and crazy and annoying and can you shut him the hell up, please?"

The head nurse, who had been busy with her nails, looked up in shock, "Mr. Snape, Mr. Potter?"

Snape continued without letting her register this new information, "He said he had a bunch of antidepressants pills. I'm assuming that the are the muggle kind…"

"His voice is so naaaaasally," said Potter.

Severus growled, "And then he had alcohol. What do I do?"

Her eyes widened and she dropped the nail filer immediately, "Oh, my goodness! Potter will you come here please." She grabbed the swaying James, who was at first reluctant to leave the side of his pansy savior. He was pinching his nose and humming in mockery of Severus' voice. "Potter! Sit down!" He almost fell before his bottom hit the end of the white bed. "Mr. Snape, if you would stay with him for a few more minutes. I have to find out what medications he's taking."

Snape sat. James wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Snape pushed him off. James laid his head on Severus' shoulder. Snape scooted away. James poked him in the stomach. Snape jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. James tried to bite his shoulder. Snape grabbed his head and yelled, "God, are you FIVE?"

"Gawd, are uuu faiiive?" he asked back, pinching his nose.

"Madam Pomphrey, I think he's faking!"

She popped out from her desk, holding James' file. "I don't know about that, Severus," She began to stumble over, reading off of her file. "The anti-depressant he's taking is very rare. It's a strange mixture of muggle and wizarding medicine. His uncle is a healer, and he's use his nephew as a sort of guinea pig for new medication. It says here that if there's an overdose, he will probably volley between extreme depressive and manic states."

"You mean he'll have no energy one moment and too much the next?" Snape asked.

"Something like that, yes." James bit his hand and he smacked him softly.

"But what if it's mixed with alcohol? This seems to be a very unusual reaction, don't you think?"

Madam Pomphrey made a grave face, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to induce vomiting. Mr. Potter… James… come here... no… stop doing that…" James was clutching Severus' arm in fear. His face buried in his shoulder. "James, this is for your own good… please… help me…"

Severus wrenched himself out of Potter's grip, "Stop throwing a tantrum and let her help you," he said with parent-like firmness. She placed a goblet to his lips, assuring him he must drink it. Severus was so busy watching that he didn't notice a muscular hand wrapped in his. Calloused fingers wrapped around his, the wide, sweaty palm bearing no resemblance to Lily's soft, cool, mermaid-like flesh. His fingers wormed underneath the leather gloves to stroke the dead skin of James' knuckles. Familiar warmth seized him. Potter gagged down the potion. Severus stared their entwined fingers in disbelief and wondered how it was possible that he was holding his enemy's hand. But there it was twitching and without thinking he rubbed his thumb over James' scared flesh. It wasn't until Potter was doubled over when he let go.

Quietly he tiptoed backwards, feeling he was no longer needed, until his back hit something hard. He whirled round, a flash of white and purple coming into view as he looked into the blue eyes of one Albus Dumbledore.


	7. Chapter 7: Golden Eardrops

AN: So yay. This chapter is a little longer than normal. It's partially Pervert Bitch's fault. I'd like to thank girldark and MySite and all those who are reading and enjoying my story. I really enjoy writing this and I'm going to stick to it. Although I'm going to have to let you guys know that the next segment might take more time to get out. I've been trying to get them out once a month or so. This time other aspects of my life are getting in the way (cough-grades-cough) so it might take so more time. Or not. Just be forewarned.

Please keep reviewing!

Chapter Seven: Golden Eardrops

"I apologize, Poppy," the headmaster said over Severus' shoulder. "I should have come sooner. Ulric the Oddball and Hambleton Quince relayed the message that a student was in danger… but you see…they tend to be a bit eccentric. I didn't quite believe them at first..."

"It's quite alright, Albus," she sat, patting Potter on the back as he retched into a bin. "Luckily a responsible student was there to take care of him."

Snape felt himself redden again instantly, _Responsible student_? Well, perhaps he might have been…

"Will he be alright?" Dumbledore asked, pointing a crooked finger to the red lump that was Potter.

"He just needs to stay hydrated," she said. "His body will get rid of the poison better than I could. I think I will contact his uncle at tell him the effects of the overdose. He should stay here for a few days, to recover."

"It was… an _accidental_ overdose, I'm assuming…"

The uncertainty in the headmaster's voice made them both turn to stare at Snape calculatingly. Did they suspect him of something?

Severus looked at James. Nervousness held it's chilly fingers around him. Surely Potter had been slightly suicidal, but should he keep his secret? He knew that the situation had to be extremely embarrassing for James once he was sober. But on the other hand, if he didn't tell, would Potter attempt this again? Would anyone be able to save him again? The right thing, which was somewhat obvious before, now was clouded behind a dementor's cloak of fear: fear of Potter himself if he did tell, and fear of what might happen if he didn't. _Coward_, the voice from his dreams resurfaced. Finally he whispered, "I'm… not so sure of that, Professor."

Dumbledore raised a white eyebrow.

"I… it's hard to explain," his voice shook. "But… Potter…at first I thought it was an accident. He said he 'might have had too much' or something. But then he said… 'life is stupid'… and I'm not sure…"

"Show me," said Dumbledore, and for a moment Snape thought he meant for him to physically act out the scene himself. But, a white, wrinkled hand lifted a wand, and those sparkling blue eyes bore into him.

The floating sensation of intellectual nakedness, and he was back twenty minutes ago. _Potter sprawled out on the floor, his wand ready, the smell of firewhiskey, a mixture of guilt and confusion, "Lily doesn't love me. Life is stupid right now." Red arms spread wide like Jesus Christ and a whisper, "Fate." His own voice hissing, "Potter. Get up…" He hoisted Potter up across his back and began to walk down the hall…_

…_a voice bubbling into the surface of his thoughts…_

"_Kill me like you killed him, you coward!"_ _James' Messy hair…almond-shaped Green eyes…_

And then the nakedness was gone. He was conscious, clothed, and in the middle of the hospital wing. What was left was a feeling of a monkey observed in a cage; confused, flattered and panicked at the eyes that were looking at him all around. "What _was_ that?" Severus whispered.

"Legilimency," said Dumbledore. "I apologize for intruding into your mind, but desperate times call for desperate measures, as the saying goes. This is a very sensitive issue, Severus, and I had to be sure to get the facts."

"Intruding my… you mean you read my mind?"

"Something like that," he smiled. "The mind isn't exactly a book, but that is the general idea."

"How?"

"I'm afraid that's a story for another time," he said with amiable firmness. "First I must ask you… who was that strange person yelling at you near the end. I don't mean to be obtrusive but does he have anything to do with James Potter?"

He played with a fray in his robes. "No… just a dream I had."

"I see," he sighed. Noticing the murderous looks from Madam Pomphrey, he whispered, "Perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere. If you would follow me to my office."

Severus was only happy to comply.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Twenty minutes later he sat across from Albus Dumbledore's desk. He never had had a reason to be in the Headmaster's office before, and now that he was there, he felt rewarded somehow. To be in the presence of knowledge in it's rawest forms… books filled with magic far beyond his dreams, silver instruments whistling away, knickknacks everywhere that he hadn't even the slightest clue as to their purpose, sleeping headmasters in their frames… Severus felt as though a student being punished shouldn't be allowed in Dumbledore's office ever. Rather, Dumbledore's office should be a meeting place of the elite, a center for parties or something similar as the Slug Club. Yet, Dumbledore didn't seem like that kind of man. He didn't have to sniff out and hide behind powerful people the way Slughorn did.

As Dumbledore set a tray of tea down, Severus couldn't help but think that when the headmaster sniffed out "favorites", it wasn't to use and manipulate them, but to teach them, to educate them, to take them under his wing. Snape reached for a cup, which danced away from his fingers. He felt as if he had been chosen as an elite, a favorite, someone Dumbledore wanted to teach. He tucked his magenta hair out of his face and sipped at the now-imprisoned teacup. The sat in amiable silence, as Severus wondered what on earth that basin filled with glowing liquid was for.

Albus Dumbledore halted his musing with his gently firm voice, "I'm very proud of you, Severus." Apparently he was; the tea was very good. His sparkling blue eyes bore into him again, "You did a great thing today. Helping a person who tirelessly makes fun of you is a very noble thing. Worthy of Gryfindor courage, Ravenclaw intelligence, and Hufflepuff… em…"

"Eh, Loyalty?" Severus supplied.

"Sure," the headmaster bit into a vanilla cookie, spilling crumbs into his tea. "In any case, you should be proud of yourself. Sometimes, my boy, you surprise me with your nobility."

Severus made a pained face. He was only a halfblood. He wondered if the headmaster would say the same thing if he knew of his muggle father's alcohol addiction. He was no nobler than a newspaper salesman. Nobles wore fine silk and embroidered cloaks… he could barely afford his school robes…

"Don't get the wrong idea," he folded his knobby fingers together on his lap. His blue eyes seemed to read his thoughts. "Nobility has many wrong connotations… I've always defined nobility as a form of rare moral character. Someone who, beyond all logic, fights for every human soul he can save. Even if that means that this is an enemy." He polished his half-moon glasses on a white handkerchief. "And that's not a chap you meet every day, let me tell you… a few years have gone by without me finding even one. Sadly, I don't think James Potter is a noble person, but he tries his best and… perhaps things will get better, now that you've… proven yourself."

Severus' face, despite being honorably esteemed by a great mentor, was in a frown. "Sir… might I ask a potentially rude question?"

"As long as you don't swear, go on."

"Do you believe _yourself_ to be… a… noble person?"

After a few seconds, Albus Dumbledore smiled, but his voice was a bit deeper, a bit more serious, and a bit less energetic than usual. "You were always so good at cutting to the core of people, weren't you, Severus?" He got up, circling the table, indicating it was time for him to leave. "The question is, what to do with this great gift?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus's self esteem had doubled by that afternoon. Finally, there was something he could kind of… sort of… be proud of. He treated himself to desert at lunch; he just couldn't refuse some of the Honeduke's chocolate he had stashed away, thinking to himself all the while… _I'm a responsible student. _Smiling with a brown smudge still on his bottom lip, he began to get out his quill and parchment only to remember that he had already finished his homework.

Snape had never been comfortable with having a lot of free time on his hands. Without friends to share it with, free time seemed pointless. Mostly it depressed Snape. Sometimes he would write in a journal, or look at potions materials, or enjoy a silent wank, but there were only so many things he could do without starting to feel somewhat lonely. So, not wanting to waste a good mood, he began towards the dungeons and the smell of potions. There he could experiment the afternoon away, if Slughorn let him.

He made his way into the tunnels below the castle, his nostrils flaring with the familiar smell of iodine. The wet, cool hole in the earth was like a safe haven. The dank stone walls hugged him. He belonged here, a slithering creature of the night in a dark cave, where the sunlight could not poke its derisive head into the cloud of his dreams, where Potter and his friends could not beat him in front of a crowd…

Where a young woman named Lily was not a traitor.

"Severus!" she said, raising a hand to her mouth to stifle the small smile that formed from the sight of his magenta head. "Oh… oh… Severus! I'm so sorry!"

She had invaded his thoughts, his dreams and now his home.

Her lipstick had smeared again, on the back of her hand. He loved it when she was so careless like that. He felt perverted. She was so sorry and so pure that he could hardly believe she was standing there, so apologetic. "I… I've been waiting for you…" she said. He must be dreaming. He turned his back on the shadow or apparition without giving it another thought.

"Wait… Severus! I know you must be _really_ mad at me, but please try to understand, I was only trying to help you. James wasn't going to listen to me if I told him 'no'… he'd just do what he always does… you know… ask me to go out with him…" He tried not to let the apparition convince him. But his memories bubbled with examples. He remembered soup foaming in his mouth as James yelled cockily, _Go out with me, Evans_. He wasn't sure if it was because the shadow was right or the memory itself but he felt even more furious. It hadn't been the only time that had happened. And when she denied him he just continued to torment him… "You know I didn't mean for it to go that far… I just didn't want James to hurt you…"

She was practically chasing him now, but suddenly he turned and Lily fell into him, her delicate hands on his chest. "Oh, really? I don't think that has anything to do with it at all. You could have gotten a teacher, or done _something_ else. You're just telling me that you've played him for a chum just as much as me," he snarled. "Why don't you just tell him to go fuck himself and leave you alone?"

"Well, because I didn't want James to think… that…" she trailed off, not meeting his eyes.

"You hussy," he hissed the words without even trying to restrain them. With a wave of hot anger he lost all logic and reason and pushed her against the wall. Her wrists were in his hands as he shoved them over her head. Her panicked breaths only furthered his furious reaction. "Can't admit what you really are, can you? You'd rather look perfect to James and let me suffer."

"Severus…" She shrunk from his mad eyes.

"Why are you always like this? Toying with me? You never will love me as much as I love you!"

He didn't mean for his comment to come out that way. Despite being pinned against the wall her full-lipsticked lips were being to form an astonished smile. "I didn't mean for that to be a complement!" Severus shouted, but she was still smiling softly. "God damn it, Lily! Stop that!" he let go of her wrists, feeling stupid all the while as she smiled even more at the sound of her first name (he rarely called her Lily). "It's not fair… to act like you love me and then treat me the way you treat me. Why do you do these things to me? Are you trying to-"

"You just said you love me."

Severus breathed out hot air of frustration. She had absorbed nothing of what he said. "Yes," he admitted, "and it seems to be a very bad life choice." He brandished a strand of magenta hair in front of her eyes.

"Oh, Severu…" she meowed, beginning to take him into a hug. But he refused to be swayed.

"But it doesn't really matter does it. It's just a token to you. A trophy. 'Oh look, another boy loves me.' Makes you feel better about yourself, doesn't it? It's about the only thing that makes you feel worth it. You just want to be the prettiest girl in school, don't you? You're trying to be _perfect_… Perfect little Lily. When all you really want is to make James hard, you fake hussy."

He shoulders were shaking like she might start crying any minute now. Snape tried to pretend he didn't care. "James doesn't… I….is… is… _that_ all I am to you? A liar?" she asked in a small voice, bordering tears.

"Yes," he said.

She winced. Suddenly his flesh was aware of her body pressed against his. Her firm breasts against his chest, her gorgeous red hair mixing with his… he could count the freckles on her reddening cheeks. And… perhaps he'd seen to many muggle movies of this situation, where two people were as close as they were now, the man slowly descended his lips, the woman's leg lifting off of her heels, and before he knew it he was imitating them. The shock of her lips willingly against his made his head jump ever so slightly. Was his first kiss happening so soon? The velvety softness of her lips erased stress and memory for a few seconds. He tried to lick the annoying lipstick off of her bottom lip, earning a coo of appreciation. Her lips opened, letting him delve inside. The electric motion of their tongues meeting, and he pulled away. He didn't let the kiss linger.

He wondered briefly what arousal felt like for women. She was flushed, breathing deeply, her eyes clouded with lust. He resisted the urge to explore. "Yes," he said again. Those eyes… deep forest green… the same from his dreams and nightmares… _coward, coward_. Poison was lurking in those misty eyes; he could smell it beneath the flowery perfume. He wanted to taste it, the poison hung on his thoroughly-kissed lips and he licked them, staring at her half-opened mouth.

"Severus Snape… you never fail to surprise me."

Minerva McGonagall's voice sent him pummeling from the cloud of arousal to earth yet again. She was becoming a professional at it. His whole face felt like burning coals, as she smugly waltzed toward him, "Ten points from Slytherin. Public display of affection is quite unlike you… and the girl… what house was she in? She ran away too quickly." It wasn't until then that he realized the space between him and the wall had been evacuated. He could hear distant footsteps and listened longingly where Lily had gone.

"She's in Gryfindor," said Severus, giving her the dignity of not mentioning her name.

McGonagall raised one slender eyebrow, giving him The Look. She sized him up with her tabby eyes, and finally meowed, "I don't believe you. Five more points for lying." And she stalked off, leaving a fuming Snape in her wake. The injustice of it all…

It was then that Severus began to define 'nobility' as 'stupidity'.


	8. Chapter 8: Mule Ears

Chapter Eight: Mule Ears is for a jealous little thing. 

James Potter rolled in blissful sleep, face as calm and happy as a baby's, hugging his pillow and pretending it was his girlfriend's soft breast. His dream consisted of secret kisses, whispered sonnets, green eyes, and soft, gorgeous red hair. He stroked Lily's curls from root to end, root to end, (how could a person's hair be so smooth?) root to end, root to end… until he noticed that this neck wasn't his lover's freckled neck, this tiny pale ear wasn't Lily's…

The soft red hair turned black. It felt slippery and slimy underneath his fingers. A giant nose, black, beady eyes… James felt stubble on the once-smooth chin. He was touching… _Severus Snape._

His body snapped awake. His sparked-open eyes held disgust and repulsion. His stomach churned again after a night of vomiting, an after-puke taste forming in his mouth. James wondered how it was possible that he had touched _Severus Snape_- the perverted freak of Hogwarts- in his dreams, much less a previously sexual dream. What a nightmare! He hadn't had a one that bad since he dreamt of losing to Slytherin.

_Oh wait_, James rolled his dry and sour tongue in his mouth, _that one was real, wasn't it_. The squirming of his insides started again. Rasputan Richardson made the winning catch. He distantly remembered silently crying over a bottle of pills. And alcohol… though after that was a hazy blur… Where was he?

The sheets covering him were starchier, itchier than his warm bed. He sat up to find himself in the middle of the hospital wing.

_What… happened?_

A bin and a full glass of water sat next to him innocently. He sipped at the water, eyeing the dark empty beds. His quiddich robes were in a smelly pile on a bed near him, replaced by a starchy white tunic. Deep breaths… did he drink a lot? Did he really try to kill himself? _No… merely an accident… _he told himself, the haze of alcohol blurring his logic. Who had helped him? He remembered not being able to get up. _Probably Sirius_, he thought, wondering where Sirius was now. He hoped Sirius had the sense not to tell anyone that he might have overdosed on purpose. His life would get much more complicated if he did.

_Don't worry about it right now_, he told himself. _Go back to sleep_. He lay back onto his pillow, worrying what Lily would think of him in such a dishonorable state, and still wondering what made him dream about Severu… about Snape.

o-o-o-o-o-o

The sound of a wet sponge hitting the floor. A slobbery kiss. The two boys giggling.

Mrs. Norris, the temperamental cat sat in a state of confusion. Her ears could hear and nose could smell two boys out of bed but she could not see them. She sniffed the air again, the distinct musk of two young men wafted into her nostrils. They were there all right. Her tail flicked as she followed they're trail. For years she had been bamboozled in the same way, but tonight she would catch them, the invisible mongrels.

"Sirius," _slurp_. "We have to get going…" No doubt the cat's fluffy tail had caught his eye. "James…"

"Right," said Sirius, kissing his boyfriend's nose before whisking him away. They ran as quietly as possible, holding hands underneath the cloak. After some time that night they decided to go looking for Prongs… their search began at the astronomy tower (James' favorite place to think and watch the sunset), to the kitchen (he had missed dinner), to the girl's bathroom (another favorite spot), and even the prefect bathrooms but they hadn't found him yet. Peter was snoozing in the dormitory with one end of the two-way mirror so they knew that he hadn't gotten back still. Sirius was about to voice the suggestion of going to the Shrieking Shack when his boyfriend cut him off.

"You know," Lupin said in a low voice, once they had lost the cat again. "He might be in the infirmary."

"I didn't think of that," Sirius replied, holding his boyfriend from behind as the glided slowly through Hogwarts. The halls were so creepy at night, but admitting that would make him sound like a first-year. "But, why would he be there?"

Remus sensed more than felt Sirius tense up at the idea of his best friend in the infirmary. He knew Sirius' mind was churning with possible, horrible accidents that could have happened to Prongs. So he tried to sound light-hearted, "Well, you know _Prongs_…" he said soothingly. "He went missing right after the match, right? So he probably went thinking he sprained an ankle or something. Something as an excuse for loosing today's match."

A growl that sounded more like a stomach gurgle escaped his boyfriend's lips. Perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned it. The whole of Gryffindor was miserable after that display. James barely missed the catch, when his feet touched the ground again he had had such a nervous smile, like he was going to break into tears. Something about his friend made him look absolutely pathetic, like a wet cat or trapped bird. "You know, you might be right, hon."

"Don't call me '_hon_,'" Remus protested a little too loudly. "That's something you would call a _girl_. That's something you _used_ to call girls."

Sirius couldn't hide the smile. "Remus, you are a jealous little thing, aren't you…"

"No… I'm just," he shrugged. "I want you to take this seriously, Sirius." He paused, resisting the urge to make a bad pun. He choose to ignore the repetition at stare into his gray eyes longingly. "I mean this… us… isn't puppy love…"

"No way, this is the real thing, babe."

"_Babe_, that sounds so… American…." Remus trailed off fingering the v-neck of Sirius' sweater. "It's kind of hot…"

"You like that, babe?"

"Don't overdo it, Sirius."

"Ok, hon."

"_Sirius…_"

"Love you." Another wet smack. "We better get going though, if we want any sleep tonight."

"Right," said Remus.

The trek to the infirmary wasn't too long, although they did get sidetracked because of avoiding Filch in numerous spots. "Wish the map was finished…" Sirius whispered to himself more than once in the night. One of the charms hadn't been functioning properly. "Then we would know exactly where he is and not have to worry about all this." Remus trailed a finger along Sirius' stubbly jawbow, arousal never leaving.

"I wish it was too," said Remus. "That way I could snog you in our dorm and know when someone's coming."

Remus was being way too cute. Sirius kissed him on the mouth. "So distracting…" he said, and they smooched again.

Eventually, after two or three more sneaky kisses the mutts made their way to James' bedside. They sat peacefully at his side, staring at the baby-faced jock. "Well, what do you think is wrong with him?" asked Sirius after a long period of silence. Remus shook his head and placed a finger at his lips. He sniffed at the discarded robes, smelling firewhiskey. They held hands underneath the cloak. "Maybe we should poke him awake…" he said. Remus pinched him. "I want to know what's wrong!" James' hips shifted against the fabric and he made cooing noises to his dream-Lily. Sirius pinched his nose and James stared up groggily at them.

"'Lo Sirius," said James up to his friend's head that was floating in midair. "Am I dreaming?"

"Maybe," said Sirius softly. "What are you doing here? What d-you do? Sprain your ankle?"

James reached for his glasses and kneaded his eyes. Stretching, yawning and noticing the time, he replied, "Y-you mean _you_ didn't bring me here?"

Sirius shook his head and Remus popped out from underneath the cloak. "Hi Remus," said James.

"No, I didn't bring you here, mate. Neither did Remus. We've been looking for you for hours. What's wrong?"

"That's funny," said James paying particular attention to cleaning his glasses. "I was hoping you would tell me. Weird that McGonagall did tell you I was down here… she usually lets you know if I've been hurt… but… I wonder who helped me. I think I might have passed out somewhere, don't really remember."

"Passed out?" asked Remus.

"I think that I drank some firewhiskey or something…" James trailed off.

"By _yourself_?" asked Sirius.

James tried not to blush, but it was too late. Could they tell that he had wanted to do harm to himself? He struggled to find the _cool _James inside of him and he shrugged, "Hey, I had just lost the match."

"So?"

"I needed a lift."

"James," Remus held his hands together on the tip of his nose, a gesture that meant he was trying to be patient and calm but inside he was emotional. "I think…" his eyes read plain and simple worry, "Gosh, Prongs… that sounds like… like your some kind of… _alcoholic_ or something."

"Come on, I'm a marauder. It was fine." James waved away his concern.

"No, I agree with Moony on this one," said Sirius passionately. "If you wanted to drink with someone I would've. But…"

"Why are the two of you ganging up on me lately?"

"I'm sorry but drinking by yourself in the middle of the day and passing out somewhere and no one we know was able to find you and ending up in the _infirmary_ is fucking scary, James!" Sirius heaved. "There's the fun of risk, but that's _stupid_."

"You worried about me? You, pansy?"

Sirius tried to hide that he took that personally. It was hardly James' fault. He didn't know about his relationship with Remus… But James was smiling and hugging him now and Sirius just took it as loving sarcasm. "I'm sorry. I promise I'm fine. I'm _fine_." He patted his friend on the back. "Really. I just want to know who sa… helped me here."

They should have noticed Madam Pomphrey shuffling about then, but they didn't. "I thought it was you."

"Could've been anyone," said Remus.

"Maybe it was Lily," said James, suddenly lovesick.

"You're pathetic," the two mutts said in unison.

"You never know!" said James in a hoarse voice.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" screeched Madam Pomphrey from across the room. "BLACK! LUPIN!"

They hid the invisibility cloak behind them.

James sat up and he felt liquids in his stomach churn. "Madam Pomphrey! Uh… my friends were worried sick about me and wanted to see if I was alright."

"And we're going up to bed right this instant now that we know that he's safe!" said Remus.  
She was still spewing steam from her nostrils. Sirius took it upon himself to use the Black family manipulation tactic number forty-eight: feigned feminine anxiety. "Oh, Madam Pomphrey!" he said with an excess flare of putting his hand to his forehead like a silent-film movie star. "How could you not let us know the whereabouts of our dear friend Mr. Potter? Why-oh-why did no one notify us of our poor… _poor_ friend's illness?" His voice wailed like a howling dog. "You don't know the terror of seeing your best friend gone the entire night." His English accent was suddenly more perfect and more pronounced. "We scrounged the castle for our dearest friend, and the imagination did wild things! What if he had fallen in a ditch somewhere? Or gotten pummeled by Peeves? What if a horrid gang of goblins mugged him and left chained in the lake to die?!"

"That'll do, Mr. Black," the head nurse said, this time a little more calmly. "You were not notified because of a specific request to keep what happened quiet by the headmaster. The state in which Mr. Potter was brought here," she grimaced at James, "Well, he may want to keep his illness private. I'm afraid that is all I'm allowed to say."

"But…" said James, "_I_ don't even know what illness I have."

"Dumbledore wishes to schedule a private meeting with you tomorrow afternoon to discuss it. He said to come to his office after classes and he will be available." She turned to leave. "Now please, Mr. Potter, get some rest."

"But… wait!" She turned again, eyeing James in a go-to-bed-child way. "Can you tell me who brought me here?"

Suddenly her annoyed face turned calm. "Why, yes. You might be surprised to note that it was Severus Snape."

"_Snape_?!" gasped Remus, Sirius and James all in unison.

"Yes," she smiled, "He helped you get here. I don't want to imagine the state you'd be in if he hadn't. He really is a sweet one, that Severus…"

"Sweet?!" garbled James, "Sweet? How do you know he didn't ambush me and then take me here out of guilt?"

Madam Pomphrey bristled, as if rustling her feathers. "I think you have a very ill view of Severus Snape if that is what you believe. He's much more noble than what you give him credit for. You can sort it out with the headmaster tomorrow. Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, good night! Mr. Potter needs his sleep."

"But!" James sputtered.

"Goodnight. If you are not gone within five minutes, you are both getting detention!" She barked with her back turned.

"The cloak!" whispered James. And his friends were gone… sort of.

"_Snivellus_ helped you?" Sirius hissed as low as he possibly could (which wasn't that low). "Why? How? I thought he hated you, mate!"

"I thought he did too," said James.

"Maybe," whispered Remus. "Maybe… he's had a change of heart. Maybe he still hates you but didn't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Isn't that a contradiction?" asked Sirius.

"Yes, but…" Remus sighed, 'Maybe we should psychologically analyze him later, Sirius. He does need sleep."

"I don't understand," James said, the eyes behind his glasses staring into the sheets. "Why would he? It's almost like he wants me to… trust him… I… don't _understand_…"

"Maybe you should ask him instead of us," said Remus, ever wise.

"He'll hex me!"

"_You've_ been doing most of the hexing lately, James." Remus was using his mom-voice again.

"I… it's like he wants me to… like… be his friend or something…" This time he wrinkled his nose in an over exaggerated grimace.

"Do you think you could ever be _friends_ with Snivellus?" asked Sirius.

"Well, you know…" he blushed slightly. "I was once," said James, smiling to the ceiling in a mischievous way. "In preschool."

"Preschool? What's that?" Sirius asked bemused. He turned to Remus for the answer. He always looked to him for answers.

"It's a special place for children to go to before Hogwarts," Remus explained.

"Wha?"

James coughed. "As much as I do enjoy your company," he said with upmost English charm. "I'd better go to sleep soon. Thanks for coming to see me." When he could still here them breathing next to him, he said, "Get out you buggars!"

And they were gone. He could hear the invisible mongrels scurry, Sirius whispering under the cloak, "Explain to me this _preschool-_thing to me again." He leaned back against the pillows, and for the first time in his short life he was glad to see them go. Closed eyes and an ugly sort of frown rooted on his face. None of this made any sense. His skins still reeked of alcohol, but he knew, he _knew_, that that greasy Slytherin hadn't had a change of heart at all. He probably ambushed him and made it look like an accident so he wouldn't get into trouble…yeah. The more he thought, the more it made sense. That Slytherin didn't even have a heart. Glaring at his eyelids, he grinded his teeth at the _hatred_ and _fury_ towards one Severus Snape.

A/N: Um… yeah. More on the preschool thing later. It was cool that Pervert Bitch, A. C. Mathur, and Erica picked up on the one-sentenced bit of foreshadowing in Chapter Five. Fooshizle to them for being in-depth readers (woot). I should give them a prize for just being awesome. I think I'll give them leftover noisemakers from New Years Eve.

Keep that in mind: people who review get prizes and are **awesome**.

My image of Snape and Potter at age five is so not cannon, but I think you guys might like it. Just be patient. Next chapter. There will be young Severus' and James' and heartaches… and… pirates.


	9. Chapter 9: Scarlet Bulger

A/N: **Next chapter I'm upping the rating to M** for good measure. Just so you know.

Hey there, how are you? Thank you for waiting so patiently for this chapter (I made it a little extra long just for you!). Finals got in the way of everything, and this chapter gave me problems- I hope that doesn't show… Tell me your thoughts in a review. You can send me flames, or tell me how angry you are at me for not updating, or just tell me what is your favorite ice cream. I love reviews. Seriously. There is a dance involved, the squee-I've-got-a-review dance. Thank you to all the lovely reviewers that make me dance. Props to Pikaf, Erica, Pervert Bitch, My site, Original Monkey Girl and all the other super-cool reviewers not mentioned. You are all certifiably awesome.

Chapter Nine: Scarlet Bugler

Severus woke up with the word _Coward_ ringing in his ears again and tears on his pillow. He rubbed his still leaking eyes. It hadn't been since he was a child that he cried in his sleep. He didn't even know why he had been crying…

He padded to the bathroom barefoot, mulling over the dream. It was the same as the last dream, only this time he had been overcome with emotion for some reason. Suddenly his heart ached and spilled into his sleeping eyes. All of his worries overwhelmed him, if his mother was ok, if his father would stop drinking, if Lily loved him, if James…

…James… He sighed into his toothbrush, wondering if he was all right. Why on earth would someone so popular and so loved want to kill himself? _Lily doesn't love me, Life is stupid right now_… For some unknown reason Severus felt a stab of guilt when he thought about him. He touched his previously-kissed lips and stared at himself in the mirror. Did Lily really love James and she was just toying around with Severus? Or did she really love Severus and she was just playing James for a fool? Why did it make Severus somehow guilty if it was the latter? Feelings throbbed around the boy. The memory of his warm calloused hand in his own only added to the confusion. Love, hate, admiration, respect, disgust, loathing… everything… his stomach churned whenever he thought about him.

Nothing had really changed… ever since they had first met.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He remembered himself as a little boy, with puggy lips and a rare smile. He stood in front of the class, too tall for his age, feet larger than normal. Short lanky hair hung in his face, the rest in a feminine ponytail. Boys and girls giggled at his graying, smelly clothes. He wanted to run and hide behind his mother's leg, but his mother wasn't there now. His eyes watered with the knowledge that his mother had left him with these strange new "playmates" and his five-year-old self almost began to cry. Until, "Hello, My name is James Potter. What's yours?" said another little boy who but ran to him and protruded a stubby hand.

"Se'vrus Snape," mumbled Severus to his feet.

"Whatsat?" said the little boy with glasses.

Severus blushed, stuttering in front of the smart-looking boy, "Severus Snape."

"Really?" James asked enthusiastically. "That's a funny name. I like it though." He grabbed his arm and ran with him into the playground, blabbering to him all the while. "Can I call you Sev'rus? My mom tells me to call people by their last names, but I like calling them by their first names. She says it makes me sound like a Merican. Your hand is real skinny. Will you call me James?" he said at top speed.

"Kay," he whispered.

"I like you!" He smiled, his glasses slipped down his nose and he scooped them up the brim. "Severus! Will you be my friend? Let's play Kings and Robbers!" He brought him to the edge of the playground and picked up two sticks. "Or maybe Robin and Sheriff of Notinghum…"

Severus smiled, hardly believing his luck that he had found a playmate so quickly. Grabbing his stick he said, "How about Pirates and Sailors?"

"Yeah!" gasped James. "Yeah! I'll be the king's navy! And you be the bad pirate!"

"Arrh!" said Severus, collapsing into giggles.

They stole costumes from the teacher's special stash (by which Severus skillfully coveted a hat, an eyepatch, and a soldiers tunic to Jame's admiration). Though they should have been inside, taking naptime and listening to Teacher-lady read stories, they tussled outside, frolicking across the grass with their wooden sticks, whacking each other and scrapping their knees. They fenced back and forth until until their green little sea became dark.

Until that point, Severus Snape had not felt so alive.

When he was too tired he fell to the ground with a thud, his hat lost in the lawn somewhere. James fell on top of him and they wrestled for a half an hour or so… breath heaving, James pinned him to the ground. T'was then that Severus received a very chaste, a very small… kiss on the lips. "I like you a lot, Sev'rus," said James again.

"I like you too," said he. His friend leaned in close; he could feel the soft hair on his forehead. "What shall we play tomorrow?"

"I dunno… will you be my friend again?"

"Of course!"

"Everyday?"

Severus smiled up into his big brown eyes, "Yes."

And he truly wanted to. A whole day is a very long time for a five-year-old, and Severus wanted to be James' friend forever. And ever.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

An older Severus dressed in his school robes and gathered his books. He was fixing his green tie below his chin when he realized something important.

Today was Saturday.

He hissed a sigh slowly through his teeth in the mirror. It was way too early on a Saturday to be up already. He would have to find something worthwhile to do for the entire day. This only reminded him that he had no friends to hang around with. In the back of his mind he was thinking about James. If he was Lily-hunting or still ill. He was probably sleeping still… he could just wander in… and ask Madam Pomphrey if he was ok. Even though he was James Potter, the asshole-jerk-popular-puppet-jock Potter, he didn't want him to be sick. In the back of his mind, behind the bitterness of a fist against his mouth, in between the cobwebs of neglect and the guilt of hatred, he could almost find it in him to help him if he could.

After all, he knew what it felt like to be forgotten.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The second day at preschool they played knights and peasants. Severus was the peasant. Only James was allowed to have a sword.

"I need you to make a moote, peasant," said James, sporting a cardboard box that served as armor.

"What's a moote?"

"You know… a hole… thingy… a ditch! A ditch around the castle," he pointed at the swing set and Severus supposed this was their castle.

"I don't wanna," sniffed Severus. "Daddy will yell at me if I get too dirty."

"DO IT!" He ordered, poking him with his sword/stick.

"Nooooo…"

"Doooooooo…it!"

"I don't want to, James."

"That's _Sir_ James to you, peasant, I am a knight after all." He stuck out his cardboard chest.

Severus frowned into the dirt. This day was ending up to be a lot less fun than yesterday. James had been ordering him around all morning. Not to mention he was tired because his daddy had been _mean_ all night. "I don't want to play, anymore." He started back toward the schoolhouse they had "stuck out" of (really the teacher had had her eye on them the whole time).

"Don't be a party pooper! Hey wait!" James grabbed his arm tight and fast.

Young Snape sent out a wail of pain, arching his back. The screech echoed across the schoolyard. James' eyes widened in fright, but he didn't let go of the arm, which made Severus only wail louder. "Let go!" he yelled. Finally realizing himself, James obeyed.

Severus ran his small fingers up and down the side of his arm, glaring at him like an old cat that had its tail pulled by some drooling baby. "Why didn't you let go?" But the other boy didn't even acknowledge the question. He lifted the taller boy's shirt to find a bouquet of black and blue flowers against his skin. Small bruises that dotted his side like little pinpricks of ink… huge bruises that revealed spiderweb capillaries if you looked closely… medium sized, but deep, bruises that were the most distasteful purple. There was one just before his shoulder where the skin had turned almost black. James placed his cold hand on the taller boy's chest. "What are you doing? Stop it!" whined Severus. James shushed him. He spread his fingers and hummed a tune his mother sang to him, a church melody that she sang whenever he was ill.

Severus suddenly felt warmth that contrasted from the coolness of James' fingers. A spiny tingling sensation, like blood was suddenly moving where it should and muscles were rearranging. His heart pounded softly.

When the hand pulled away, the bruises were gone. "Y-you…" Severus stuttered. "You c-can do magic things too?"

James smiled.

"Are you a fairy?"

James laughed; it rang and sang, sending Severus into shivers.

Severus swallowed, deciding he should explain. "My dad calls me a fairy when I do magic things. Are you a fairy too?"

James' smile was wide and tender. "No," he wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes, "You're not a fairy. You're a wizard. I'm a wizard too. My dad's a wizard and my mom's a witch."

He probably should have been more surprised than he was, but that's how the world works when you're five. He nodded feverishly, making the connections in his mind. "My daddy sometimes calls Mommy a witch, but I thought that was just cause he's mean… and… and… and… _I_ though wizards were supposed to have long beards!"

"No… just Dumbledore," said James.

"Whose Dumbledore?"

But then Teacher-Lady was running toward them, huffing softly from the exertion. The hair in a bun was now askew, "Are you alright? I heard one of you cry out! Severus, was it you?"

"I fell down, but I'm better now," he said. He pointed towards his friend. "James is a wizard," he explained.

James nervously began to open his mouth to tell Snape that that was supposed to be a secret when Teacher-Lady gave a wide grin. "Oooh," she said raising her eyebrows to encourage their make-believe. "Is that so?" she smiled.

"Yeah, and I'm one too."

She laughed. "Well, what's a wizard without his wand?" she asked, and she pulled out of one of her many pockets a plastic stick with a star at the end.

On her turned back, Severus whispered to James, starring at the glitter on the star, "Fairy wand." And he threw it over his shoulder.

James then asked him what sort of magic Severus did. And he explained, with a plethora of "and"s and "um"'s, that sometimes when he was dreading to pick up a broken plate that his father had thrown he would look down to see it completely fixed, without even a scratch. He unraveled a pair of knitted mittens, and felt so bad that he ruined his mother's gift that under his gaze the mittens re-knitted themselves. And if he wished for the rats to go away he sometimes found them dead outside his room, but that was scary and he didn't like when that happened. "But I never ever… _ever_ thought you could make bruises better!"

"I didn't get all-a-um dun," whispered James. "There's still some on your back. And arms."

Severus unabashedly took off his shirt and threw it in the grass. He felt James' cold fingers pinch his back, and whispered, "If you can make bruises better, why can't Mommy do it if she's a witch?"

When James didn't answer, he just assumed he didn't know. But this train of thought stopped abruptly when he felt a cold pair of lips on his arm. "Stop! Why are you kissing me?" Severus arched away from him again, but James continued to give butterfly kisses to the place he had grabbed so forcefully earlier.

"Sometimes it works better."

Severus shivered, unused to all of this undue attention. James' kisses fluttered over his back, and that warmth filled his bruises until they were gone. He sighed when James healed one of the larger bruises on his side that had been hurting him for a while. The black-haired boy sat next to him when he was finally finished, smiling. "Thanks, James," Severus whispered.

"No problem, Sev'rus. That's what a knights supposed to do for his peasants."

"I don't really want to be a peasant anymore, James."

"Ok, then you can be a damsel-in-stress."

"Alright… what's that mean?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

James Potter yawned widely, looked at his watch, and rolled over. He stuffed his face into his pillow, blocking those happy streams of sunlight that were dancing through the high windows from his eyes. He whined as loudly and as gracefully as a mule. Why didn't they have blinds in an infirmary? Don't invalids need sleep? He tucked the stiff white sheets around him, now damp with his own sweat.

"You know you can leave now, Potter."

Madam Pomphrey eyed him down from the end of his bed.

"I have a headache."

Her hands were on her hips, her eyes unsympathetic. "You would."

James tried on his best, hungry-puppy-dog/kitten-in-the-rain face.

"Nothing I can do for you, I'm afraid."

_Never was as good as Sirius at that_, he thought. "What about that muggle stuff? Asayprin. As…pourin. As…"

"Aspirin?"

"Yes, that's it. What about that?"

She shook her head slowly, looking less angry and more earnest. "You've had enough of your own medicine, I'm afraid." He couldn't understand what she meant, and didn't have enough time to dwell on it because she was pulling the sheets from his feet. "Come, Potter, you need to go see Professor Dumbledore, straight away!"

"Hey, I'm sick! Aren't I supposed to sleep my disease away?"

"You'd be better off on your feet!"

Potter moaned and groaned. He moaned when he rolled out of bed. He moaned when he placed his glasses on the brim of his nose. He groaned when he had to bend over to put on his socks.

It was when one sock was still dangling on his big toe, and he was fixing his tie when Severus strolled in, hands in his trouser pockets, sniffing the air. James, after making sure his hair was neatly ruffled in the mirror, glanced at him from across the room, his stomach making a gurgling (but not altogether unpleasant) lurch. He shivered as he remembered his dream about running his fingers through that _greasy_ hair.

Snape eyed him back, stopping as if a gun was fired. Like a cat arching its back, he put on his well-trained glare. His shoulders tightened, his mouth in a grimace. He focused on his adversary. The touchy-feely drunk was gone. Now this was _James Potter_.

"Snape."

"Potter…"

At a total loss for what to say or do next they just stared each other down, black eyes on brown ones. Severus set his face in a disinterested, uncaring expression. He set his jaw in a frown, and lifted his head haughtily. James glared at him, with an anger that he couldn't fathom or explain.

"You sent me to the hospital wing," He stated. The accusing edge to his voice was merely a bluff.

Snape just lifted his jaw even more. "Yes I did. A succinct and accurate summary of yesterday's activities." He wondered how much James would remember of all of this. With his luck, he probably didn't remember at all. With his luck, Potter's random, general statement was a guess. "_Sent_ might be the wrong word though." Severus couldn't resist the need to play with him. "More like _carried_. Carried like a damsel in distress."

James' lip took a downward turn. "And _why_ would _you_ want to carry _me_?"

Emotion passed as briefly as a shadow across Severus' face. Surely Potter was conscious of the fact that he tried to kill himself, right? Was this some sort of trick question? Maybe Potter didn't believe that he was a good person, but he wouldn't let someone die in the middle of Hogwarts. He didn't hate Potter enough to let the man choke on his own vomit. Maybe that's what he meant by the question…

Underneath the layers, Severus saw the real question that was being asked, "Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

And he didn't know how to answer.

"Well, you wouldn't leave me alone, really," said Severus, somewhat truthfully. "Couldn't keep your pukey hands off of me, actually." He grinned.

James' eyebrow rose, "What are you talking about, Snape?" There was an unnatural sort of fear behind his eyes. The fears, anxieties, the anger that was absent yesterday was back now, taking over the calm James that held his hand. Severus could practically _feel_ the homophobia that was electrifying Potter now, sending shockwaves off of him.

Snape tried to keep his cool. "Lets see," he took a tally with his forefinger and the fingers on his left hand, "You called me a pansy. Tried to snog me. Kept on hugging me. And… oh, yes… you accused Lily of being a Lesbian."

Slowly, James' face became more passive. He pointed at him, his eyes becoming wide.

"So, I took you to the infirmary."

James was grinning. "Your hair has changed back."

"Changed… what? Oh… back to black… yes…"

"It was red."

"Yes, you remembered. Good for you," Severus folded his arms.

James' brown eyes sparkled oddly. He chuckled into the back of his hand, and smiled.

"Why are you grinning like an idiot, Potter?"

"Because I just remembered calling you a pansy." James started laughing out loud, hee-hawing like an ass.

"Yes," Snape growled stiffly, "very funny."

A few more "heeheehee"'s and he began to calm down. "Jeez…I… Snape, I think you overreacted by taking me to the infirmary. It wasn't a big deal. I was just sloshed. I just needed to lie down. Now, I'm gonna get into trouble for drinking on the grounds."

"First of all," Snape pointed to his chest angrily. "I don't give a damn whether you get into trouble or not. You can have Filch spank you with a hot iron rod for all I care. That's none of _my_ business." He lifted his chin again. "And second, you weren't _just wasted_ as you most eloquently put it."

"What d'you mean?"

"I…" Severus began. "Well…" he stammered. "M-maybe you should talk to Dumbledore about that."

James growled, "_What_?" Underneath the layers he was screaming: _What's wrong with me? Why did you help me? Am I that ill?_ "Did I come down with syphilis or something? What's the big deal?"

"You tried to… "Severus folded his arms again. "Look, I really shouldn't be the one to tell you this. Talk to Dumbledore. Talk to Lily. This is…" He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes going astray. "This is none of my business." He turned his back, beginning out of the infirmary.

"Snape…" James called after him.

Severus turned.

"I don't really understand what's going on," James played with his dirty robes. "But I suppose I should thank you."

Snape bit his lip. He then sighed and rolled his eyes, trying to stay like he's always been, trying to recover their old hatred. He wanted to redraw the line drawn in the sand between them, though the waves were constantly pushing them away, "Whatever."

James' gasp of annoyance falls on his ears even as he's passed through the door.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Snape sat. James wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Snape pushed him off. James laid his head on Severus' shoulder. Snape scooted away. James poked him in the stomach. Snape jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. James tried to bite his shoulder.

Snape hit him across the face.

"Ooooow!" yelped young Potter. "Wuhwusdatfor?"

"Stop hugging me," little Severus said, annoyed.

"But I…" he rubbed his long nose, "I… like hugging."

Severus lifted his chin.

James crosses his ankles and stared into the dirt. "Do you not like me anymore?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Snape!" the older James called. "Snape! Wait!"

Severus tried to run. His steps echoed across the stone halls. But then another pair of footsteps started to increase their tempo, and the hall was filled with cracking leather and stone. An arm from behind grabbed the fat of his left arm. His vision swung in the wind. James Potter's nose was inches away again. His breath heaved onto Severus' face, "What do you mean it's none of your business? What do you mean _whatever_?" When Snape only stared and the Gryffindor yanked him against the nearest stonewall. "You're _hiding_ something. What do you mean what-fucking-ever, I mean what the fuck?"

"You tried to kill yourself!"

He didn't want to burst it out this way, but James had to keep prying him until he broke like a black balloon. "What?"

"You mixed alcohol with some drug on purpose. You were trying to kill yourself!"

James' face was only confused. The haughty Gryffindor. He must have been thinking: _Me? Had to be somebody else. Couldn't have been me. I wouldn't do that_. He blinked once or twice to try and remember. But the man was only becoming more focused on Severus' face. That electric rage was back, "Spreading rumors about me, Snape?"

Snape, the name was almost like dirt on his tongue.

"I haven't told anyone but Dumbledore!"

"Suppose it got you house points. Petty little Slytherin. Making up lies…"

"He hasn't given me anything, you bloody arse!" He tried to shake James off of him, but the grip on his arms was firm. "You're an ass."

"Am I supposed to believe that you _saved_ me?" James laughed derisively, as if the idea was ludicrous. "Saving an enemy from an untimely death? Saint _Snape?_"

"Shut up!" Severus felt a heaviness in his chest. "I hate you! Ignorant jock!"

Snape pushed him off and James pushed back.

"I was just trying to…" Severus whimpered.

"Trying to _what_? Get me to like you? By fucking spreading lies about me?"

His voice was sounding feeble, his heart was pounding, he felt short of breath, "I'm not lying."

"Well I _don't _like you. I've _never_ liked you."

"I… I didn't…"

"Gonna cry, Snape?"

The question was asked just as Severus felt he was going to burst into tears.

"Huh, Snivelus? Gonna cry? Wimp?"

"I HATE YOU!"

Snape was blinded with rage, he hit ever part of James he could reach. Never had he attempted so much muggle-style fighting. He kicked his shins, slammed his knuckles into his side, and punched his gut. He clawed into his face. He whispered a prayer of "I hate you"'s under his breath. James deflected his blows with ease, but only flailed when Snape sunk his nails into the flesh of his neck. "I HATE YOU SO MUCH!" he yelled. Wide-eyed, James watched as Snape punched him like a girl, one hand still pinning his neck to the wall. He wanted to destroy James Potter, to rip the heads off of china dolls, to smash stain-glass windows. "Ungrateful SHIT! Ungrateful BASTARD! NEVER AGAIN!" Each word was accompanied with a grunt as he punched James in the gut.

"_MR. SNAPE!_"

McGonagall's shrill voice reverberated across the hall.  
Severus' fist hung lamely in the air. He continued to dig his fingers into James' neck, whose eyeglasses were askew and who looked like someone had killed his favorite cartoon character. He felt embarrassed, now that he slowly was backing away from him, that very little damaged had been done to the jock's lean frame. He had been hoping to break or sprain something, but it looked like the most he caused was a few minor bruises. In fact (he realized this and he was _really_ embarrassed) James had been so shocked that Snape was fighting back that he hadn't even _thought_ to go on the offensive, otherwise he would have obviously won… again.

Potter just wanted to see him snap. That monkey-in-the-cage feeling was back again.

"Mr. Snape! What is the meaning of trying to injure an invalid?"

Severus glanced at the Head of House. _Invalid, _he thought. If she knew that Potter was in the hospital wing then perhaps she knew why. Maybe she knew that he was the one who saved him! She surveyed him earnestly over her square spectacles.

"I… I…"

"It's alright, Severus. You can go back to your common room now."

"_What_?!" Potter bellowed. "Professor, he just tried to beat me into the wall!"

She tilted her pointed hat upright and gave him a once-over. She brushed his robes off, and grinned, "No harm done." Severus tried to not take that as a personal insult to his manhood.

"But _Professor_…"

"Well, maybe next time you shouldn't coax him quite so much, Mr. Potter. After all," She gave Snape a backward wave, as if to shoo him in the other direction, "If you coaxed me as much as you coax him, you would have about five detentions every day. Now, let's get you to the Headmaster."

As Snape looked over his shoulder, he saw James being yanked down the hallway by the arm by Professor McGonagall.

He supposed he wasn't so mad at her anymore.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Young Severus pressed his hand against the cool car window, marking the ripples of the rain. Pearl-shaped raindrops slid down, and he followed them with his noses, his tears every now-and-then making pearls of their own against the glass. Elaine Snape warned him from the front of the car to stop crying or she'll turn the car around and send him to live with his father.

This only made Severus sob more.

He squished his forehead against the glass. He let out a harsh whine to tell his mother how angry he was at her. His young mind couldn't wrap around the idea that he would never see James again…

At that, she pulled over their Volkswagen into the mud off of the road, and pressed a hand to his knee. "We had to leave. You know why as well as I do. We're just taking a vacation. Do you really not want to see grandma?" Snape snuffed his snot onto his sleeve. "I'm sorry, honey. But this is what we have to do. You understand, don't you?"

Snape said nothing. But he didn't understand at all, and he never would. He never really understood why she made his life hell.


	10. Chapter 10: Desert Candle

Sweet Merlin I took a long time to post this. Sorry for the wait. It's been a long summer.

So you know, this chapter is somewhat on the smutty side. IF YOU DO NOT PREFER SLASH PLEASE DON'T READ THIS CHAPTER.

Chapter Ten: Desert Candle

Severus kissed her on the forehead and stroked her gorgeous red hair. She seemed like she was straight out of one of those American movies, a painted diva, every eyelash perfectly placed, every freckle made cute, every blemish hidden. "You're beautiful…" he said. He couldn't help asking, "Why do you waste your time with me when you can have whoever you want?"

Her lips stretched and her eyes rolled in some promise of impending ecstasy. Lips that promised more poison for him whispered. "You do know how to complement a woman." She played with his tie coyly.

"It was a sincere question."

"That was a sincere answer." Her hands on his white shirt…

"I'm surprised at you," Severus smirked. His mind kept on jumping to the point of this conversation, to Potter. "The only reason you're with me is because I complement you? Well, you _are_ a haughty thing. And you spend your time accusing Potter of being bigheaded. I'm afraid, my _dear_, you've made yourself into quite a hypocrite."

He felt her hand on his chest jump at the sound of his name. He had heard, somewhere, of magicians who could read one's thoughts by the slightest touch. The tiny muscle contractions, the small scrape of long fingernails on his collarbone, he wanted to someday master this skill, to know the emotion behind the twitch.

"You like him, don't you?" Severus didn't snarl this time; he didn't want her to shy away. "I hate him, but I can't deny you'd be good together. The two most popular people in the school… why even bother with me? Are you just trying to make him jealous and snap or something?"

"You still think I'm a 'fake hussy' don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"You haven't proven yourself otherwise," his temper rose. "Potter's crazy for you… quite _literally_ crazy for you. _I'm_ crazy for you. I'm sick of playing the game when I can't see the cards. How do I know that you won't just run to him on a whimsy? How do I know you don't make fun of me behind my back? You hate me don't you? Just say that you hate me!"

Lily just stared.

There was a wetness at the corners of her eyes. She folded her arms. _Oh, no,_ he thought, _don't get upset_. He had forgotten that this was a _woman_ in front of him, and women should be dealt with care and soft gloves and snuggles. Maybe he had been so used to his father roughhousing his mother that he had lost his better judgment. He knew better than his father, though. He knew not to treat women like crap and make them cry.

So he did something he normally would never do and apologized, "Look, I'm sorry…"

"No," Lily wiped her eyes with her sleeve. _Please don't cry_, he thought desperately, _I'll be nice_. "You have every right to… question. If I were you I would be really angry too." She sighed deeply, the wetness retreating back, her twisted face now calm. "I don't hate you at all. You… I like you a lot. But…"

Snape stared.

"I like James too."

His soul deflated a little at that remark, his mind making a whoopy-cushion noise. "Ho-why?" he garbled.

"Is it really so hard to believe that a person can like two people at the same time?" asked Lily.

"Two completely different people who have hated each other since they were five? Yes," Severus said.

"But you're both so…" she trailed off, and Snape had no idea what they both were. "He's athletic and sexy and smart. Sometimes he can be a prick… granted… but once he opens up to me… _really_ opens up, and he doesn't just treat me like some girl who he owns, there's… such a sweet side to him." Snape took this pause in conversation to blow a wet raspberry. "And you," Oh, he really wanted to hear what _he _was, "You're so sensitive and sweet…" Sensitive? Him? How did he become the sensitive one? Damn it! "And I know that, even though I've had a rough day, you'll stay with me and talk to me about it. You're not scared to stick up for me, and you'll tell it like it is…"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "So I'm not sexy at all, is that it? I'm just… you know… the _sensitive_ one?"

To his surprise, she giggled for at least thirty seconds after that. He then decided that such giggling should be outlawed. "No, you're plenty sexy yourself," she smiled. "You're voice… sometimes…it makes me weak at the knees."

"My _voice_?" asked Snape.

"Yeah." She blushed into the ceiling. "It's all deep and raspy and smooth… like red wine."

"My voice… is like red wine…" Snape stared. "O…kay…"

"And you're a really hot kisser, too."

"And Potter isn't?"

Lily twirled her hair around her finger, "He's… ok…"

He now had an evil grin from ear to ear.

"What about me?" She had a slight flush from her cheeks to her chest, giving her a heady, after-sex glow. "What's so good about me?" Her cleavage was quite visible when she leaned towards him… it took all of the dignity he had not to drool and stare at it.

"You already know you're the hottest girl in the school. What more do you want?"

"Tell me…" She wrapped her arms around his neck. He felt his nether regions getting interested.

"Should I start with your toes and work my way up?"

She rolled her eyes. "Start with the sexiest thing about me."

_Oh shit_, Snape gulped. He knew enough about the female mind to know that there was no right answer to this question. If he said something like, 'your eyes' or 'your personality' she would feel dismissed as un-sexy. If he said something like, 'your freaking cleavage' she would feel like some slut, and she'd feel used. "Your… um…hmm…" This was a lot of pressure. What he said next would further impact their relationship forever. He didn't know where to put his hands either. She was leaning against him so his hands kept slipping down her back… towards something-that-he-really-shouldn't-grab. Panicked heartbeats thumped between them. He licked his lips. But then, a genius idea, and a snarky grin, "I really think this question requires further investigation."

She slid against him more. He felt his hands slide lower. But before he could pat himself on the back for such a good answer that was, she said, her red full lips inches from his nose, "Take a guess."

_Shit_, he thought again. And before he could think he said, "Your thighs."

"My _thighs_?"

Apparently this was a wrong answer.

"You've barely even seen my thighs, unless you look up my skirt all the time." She raised her eyebrow, almost looking angry.

_Oh No, ohnoohnoohno…_ "No I just… can feel them when you sit next to me…"

"My thighs are fat," she admitted.

"No… they're… warm…" his hands wandered downwards, just below her bum. He could here ringing in his ears. Even covered in the skirt he could feel unbearable heat there. "Probably soft too… but like I said it requires further investigation."

Finally she smiled, "I'll excuse that one for not having enough blood pumping to your brain. What else?"

The overt reference to his cock made him dizzy with lust. "You're lips…"

Silently fulfilling his request, she kissed him. This kiss was even better than last time… there was more wetness, more tongue, more sucking, more arousal. Now _he _was pressed against the wall. His hands were now blatantly on her arse now. Their tongues battled with sweet rhythm. Thoughts escaped him as the slurping, wet sounds vibrated down his spine. Warmth he had never felt before. Their hips moved slightly together. After a long time of this awkward dance, she sucked his bottom lip and it sprang back with a pop. "Ok, then," and that's all she said before she disappeared again.

_Ok, then_, thought Severus_, what kindof goodbye is that? Why did she leave?_ She was indeed gone, upon further inspection. He looked downward. It would seem that he now had a Predicament, which had to be handled immediately. He was throbbing. What to do? He gathered his dropped book bag and covered himself, his left hand in his pocket. His minded raced from lack of blood because of his Predicament, _Where to? Dorm? No, too far… Dungeons? Still to far… Empty Classroom? No, those have windows. Fuck!_ He was walking as fast as he could. _Bathroom! Bathroombathroombathroom…_He suddenly though how useful it would be to have a map of the school, because even though he was a sixth year, he still couldn't remember where everything was, especially with a Predicament.

He practically threw himself into the nearest bathroom and ran into an empty stall. Not the most scenic place to wank, but he could always use his imagination. His cheeks burned as he gingerly pushed down his trousers, feeling awkward, paranoid he would get caught. He sat back against the lid, closing his eyes as he touched himself, imagining Lily's sweet mouth doing forbidden things to him. He stroked up and down his length, growing sweaty with lust. He felt guilty for these perverted images, but he imagined those perfect, _perfect_ lips…

"SIIIIIIIIIIRIUUUUUUSSSSS!" James Potter's voice laughingly rang throughout the bathroom.

_Oh **No**_

"What?" Sirius Black answered, sounding annoyed.

_Oh…what now?_ Snape panicked, his heart now pumping painfully, his hand still on his cock. He couldn't really stop. He bit his hand to keep silent and tried to block James' voice out of his ears. His hand, which had frozen, quickened its pace. He rubbed the tip with his thumb, biting hard into his flesh to silence the deep, grumbling moan. _Just keep going,_ he thought, _Keep on going…quick, get it over with._ He imagined Lily licking him from base to tip…

"Find me a bird to make out with."

A sigh that Severus refused to hear, "James. I'm peeing."

"Later then. We need to get laid."

_Yes you do_, Snape couldn't help thinking with satisfaction. _Lily, focus on Lily…_ He dreamt of her breasts… her thighs…

"You know I don't sleep around like that anymore," said Sirius.

_Pansy_.

He could _hear_ Potter rustling his own hair. And then, "Hey, is somebody in here?"

Snape gulped. He tried to sound more Gryffindor. _How do you sound more Gryffindor?_ "Um… yeah…" he made his passionate moan into a deformed grunt. "You're gonnawanna leave soon," His hand slowed on his prick. "This might be bad."

"Ew," said James. "Thanks for the warning."

He grunted._ Ignore them… so… close…_ Lily's lips, Lily's lips, Lily's lips. Her soft body. His... Snape's eyes snapped open. _What?_

"Wait, who is this?"

But he didn't hear him. The blood was pounding in his ears. His whole body shook and pulsed. He felt the perfection welling up inside him. The humidity and warmth hung around him like a full-body halo. And in the last moment, when his mind couldn't deny it, the image of a man's chest pressed against him, masculine lips against his neck, and James Potter rose into his imagination and he came.

Scratch that.

He came loudly.

James had heard him.

He heard his voice become low and predatorial, "Padfoot, can you wait for me outside?"

"But James…"

"Outside!" he ordered. A pair of feet shuffled passed his door. He knew it was coming, but he still jumped when James cursed the door off his hinges, and he was left with his Predicament straining out of his trousers and covered in his own sticky come. James' eyes, that murky brown on him felt like the layers of dirt on a casket. The graffiti on the walls around him like the clawing fingernail marks of people buried alive. The sun glittered across James' face. His nostrils flared, smelling something or nothing. He was dead.

And then he pounced, like the lion Gryffindor he was, pinning him against the wall of the stall. Snape clawed at him like a woman to break free. James' muscular arms held his wrists over his head and he was reminded of the first time he had kissed Lily. He continued to wriggle against him, which caused James to press their bodies tighter together, until their whole bodies were touching. They were nose to nose. "Growing a crush on me, Snape?" Potter growled.

"Fuck you," Snape hissed, "_Fuck you._"

"I know you want to. You came yelling my name."

"No I di…"

He couldn't rebuttal. James was kissing him.


End file.
